


Behind a Mask

by ellavivira



Series: Behind a Mask [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Mild Angst, Slow Build, University AU, precious children who message each other not knowing they know each other, stay tuned, still playing the love square though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6494560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellavivira/pseuds/ellavivira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien Agreste wants friends. He enrolls into a university unbeknownst to the world and, when he's almost discovered, hides in the drama department under a mask. He presents himself to Marinette, the costume designer, as Chat Noir who she mistakes as one of the students from the private school they're collaborating with on a theatrical play. Adrien, meanwhile, falls in love with "Ladybug," a girl he meets online.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a black cat gets an idea. (Adrien you are _loved_ you precious child you.)

If anyone were to ask which teenager had to have had the most perfect life, at least half of France would have insisted it was Adrien Agreste. Son of famous fashion designer Gabriel Agreste, he lived in a lavish mansion where he was driven to and from wherever he wished. He ate the most expensive foods cooked by the greatest of chefs and travelled the world at his leisure. He met with all the famous celebrities he wished, joining them at their extravagant private parties. Yet, despite his riches, he was modest, virtuous, polite—a model citizen with a model occupation. He could get any girl he wished, wherever she stood on the social scale; he was every girl’s dreamboat. Oh, how the world thought so highly of Adrien Agreste! Everyone, except for Adrien Agreste himself.

It was Saturday night and, like every Saturday, he found himself home alone sitting on the computer and scrolling through the Internet. Subsequently, he had found threads talking about his supposed perfect life. There was a sad smile on his face as he ticked off each guess and corrected them: there were no fancy chefs, fancy foods, leisure traveling, famous celebrity friends and famous parties. He instead had a family chef since he was 3 regulating his diet due to his rigorous occupation and thus had no time to even make friends or travel. They were right about the house though—it was pretty lavish, but it was also very quiet and empty and alone. Who would envy this?

He stared lazily at the sentence claiming, despite his riches, that he was modest, virtuous and polite. Someone had directly replied to that message: “How would you know? You’ve never met him.” He sighed. Yes, how would they know? That was the outer façade of Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste. He had worked so hard for that image and, although it was nice getting compliments for the persona, he wasn’t sure that was him anymore. He wasn’t sure who _he_ was anymore. Was there anyone who could vouch for him, anyone who could tell him what he was like? Impossible, he had no friends.

Almost like they’d read his mind, the reply was replied to right then. Not expecting much, he clicked it and read. “No, I have never met Adrien Agreste although I would sincerely like to. Admittedly, I am very into fashion and have had his posters on my wall since I held my first needle. His eyes have always had that warm glow, his smile has always struck me as genuine. It’s almost like he’s asking you to be his friend. That is why, with confidence, I can say he is a warm, caring human being. If possible, I would like to be his friend one day.”

Adrien read it once. Then read it again and again. He couldn’t believe someone had written that, and they wanted to be his friend? A warm feeling washed over him as his heart warmed. For the first time in a while, he felt cared for and it felt great. _He_ wanted to be _their_ friend, whoever they were! He pressed the reply button and wrote a response: “That’s absolutely true! You sound like a warm and caring human being as well, I’m sure Adrien Agreste would find it an honor being friends with you.” He pressed enter and his reply appeared shortly after. And so he waited for their reply, which didn’t take very long.

“Really? That’s so nice of you to say that! But I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be friends with someone as clumsy as me…”

Again, he typed. “Nonsense! Anyone would be lucky to have a friend as caring as you. I know I would.” And then it hit him; this is what he really wanted. He wanted friends. And there was at least one person willing to be friends with him. Suddenly full of purpose, Adrien clicked on the previous message and the screen suddenly changed. The website it opened was the profile view of the user who had been messaging him. It was only now that he registered her handle: LadybugLadyluck. He clicked to send a message and an error pop up appeared: Only registered users can message users directly. Ah, so he had to create one! He opened up a new tab and began his registration, only pausing when they asked him for a handle. He needed one that LadybugLadyluck would be able to recognize is him, he reasoned. In another tab, he went back to the thread and looked for his replies.

She had replied to his message in the meantime: “Looks like we’ll be getting along from now on then, Kitty.” _Kitty_? Confused, he looked at his messages. Above his replies, it seemed that the website had created a temporary handle for him to post with: CatNoir0102(guest). He would have to go with that. He finished his registration and clicked submit, eagerly waiting for the website to finalize his registration and he could continue talking to LadybugLadyluck. Instead, an error pop-up appeared: “High volume of registration requests have been received this week. Please wait 24-48 hours for your request to be processed. When processed, please confirm via link through email that you are a registered user.” Adrien groaned: curse his bad luck!

He went back to the main thread, content to just continue reading her messages for now. Ladybug. This complete stranger named Ladybug had offered to be his friend, his first friend. And they seemed nice; they’d defended Adrien without even knowing him! He wondered how their friendship would blossom, if they’d ever meet, if they’d ever share their real names. All of a sudden, he wanted more: more messages, more warm feelings, more friends! An ad appeared at the bottom of the screen catching his attention.

Francois Dupont University. Open enrollment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote two chapters and only posted one? I am a terrible, terrible writer that is late for work! Next chapter definitely this weekend. (Please love me!)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien is sad. Marinette is sad. A lot of messages are sent.

 

The ad shined like a beacon and suddenly Adrien had an epiphany. Universities were schools. Schools had people, lots of people. People could be friends. Adrien could make those friends and then maybe, just maybe he’d be full of warm feelings forever. This was a good idea.

But it was also a bad idea. He remembered the time he had tried to run away to join a public high school when he was fifteen. Chloe, the mayor’s daughter, had convinced him it was a good idea. He had been excited to join her class. He had left home half an hour early to sneak all the way to school but still he had been caught. Nathalie, his father’s assistant, and his chauffeur Gorilla had caught him before he even made it up the steps. And they dragged him back home, kicking and squirming. His father had yelled at him, ripped up the high school application in front of him and told him the same words he’d heard all of his life.

“You are not like everyone. You are my son.”

Even now, the words hurt. Why couldn’t Adrien Agreste be like everyone else? What was different about him? Why couldn’t he be normal? Why couldn’t he have friends? Feeling too down to be online anymore, Adrien turned off the computer screen and dragged himself to bed. He wrapped himself head to toe in the various covers and scrunched himself in until he felt himself warm. Sure it was a different type of warm, but it was warm. The warmth got him to sleep.

.

..

...

It was 5am when someone knocked at the door. Well, _trap-door_ , she mentally corrected herself as she thought it over. She had been thinking over a lot of things lately. Tossing and turning between her sheets, the bluenette tried to will herself up to no avail. Nope, she didn’t want to get up. Nothing could make her move, nothing!

Except, she had to. Her father had gotten hurt and twisted his ankle just last week. He insisted he could work but surely that wouldn’t help the healing process, and she very well couldn’t leave it all in the hands of her mom. And so she moved as she forced her brain to function. Yes, it was 5am. The bakery had to be open by 7am. There was a lot of prepping to do. Today was Monday. An order of a dozen fresh bread loaves was usually picked up at 6:45am, fifteen minutes before the store officially opened. She should get that ready first.

Another knock at the door and a call: “Marinette, please hurry!” Marinette glanced over at her phone. 5:15am. Curses, how had time passed so fast? She hurried the shower and changed her clothes, tying her hair in the usual pigtails. Her hair was getting longer; a haircut would be in order soon. Then again, it did make her look a lot more feminine. She pushed the thought away as she went downstairs.

Prepping was easy; as the daughter of a bakery shop, Marinette had helped her father prep for years. And yet it felt much longer when it was just she and her mother. As they kneaded the dough, there was small talk. There was always small talk.

“How is the new school?”

“Absolutely wonderful now that Chloe Bourgeois isn’t there.” Her mother laughed pleasantly, the sound contagious. Marinette had to laugh as well.

“It was only a matter of time, huh. Tell me, what have you done now that you’re Chloe-less?”

Marinette worked on the dough a little harder. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like nothing’s changed but something has, you know? I sat in class and I paid attention to all my classes and no one was picking on me for an entire period, or any of my periods. I drew something in art class and I was praised by the whole class. Not one person complained. It’s…liberating.”

She could hear her mother’s kneading slowing down. “You don’t regret transferring? Be honest, Marinette.”

There was a pang in her heart at her mother’s words. Her mother was looking at her, she realized. Looking for any indication that her daughter really wasn’t alright. Marinette had to suck it up, if not for appearances. So she put up a big smile. “I don’t regret it. Francois Dupont University is a wonderful school. Alya’s there and we hang out all the time. It’s fun all the time, so don’t worry so much about me, Mom. Worry about Dad instead.”

Was that too much? Her mom probably didn’t buy it. Marinette didn’t want to look, she was afraid to see her mother’s disappointed face. Instead, she continued the prep work in silence. The 6:45am order was made and delivered. At 7am, her father came down and volunteered to take the register. Marinette volunteered to go back to bed. She didn’t have to go to school until 12pm; a good nap was definitely in order. But first—she slid over to her computer and turned it on.

A browser was open with 17 tabs. The first open tab was already listing all the newest articles on Gabriel Agreste’s newest line as all the tabloids speculated on the theme. Spring was coming, certainly he’d choose bright colors for the newest theme. But then it was very unlike Gabriel to follow common norms. Marinette was filled with excitement as she scanned each article. They were clearly just as curious as she was. The internet was such a wonderful place, full of so much information and people with common interests so willing to talk and chat and compare theories.

But it was also a terrible place. She remembered the thread she was on two days ago that had been so intent on bashing Adrien Agreste’s reputation. Jealous, pitiful people who had probably never met the poor kid but wanted to hate something. Out of loyalty for her favorite brand (whom Adrien had always modeled) and her childhood celebrity crush, she had defended him. And someone had praised her for it.

Speaking of…Marinette noticed now that on the top right there was a red alert with the number 1 on it flashing on the postcard icon. Marinette without thinking much: perhaps it was a user committed to talking about the benefits of cashmere over felt, or another angry user bashing her over defending Adrien. Fifty percent chance of either. She clicked on the message without reading the handle.

**Hello! I hope this message finds you safely. I'm not a complete weirdo I promise! We’ll be getting along from now on, right? This kitty is here to stay!**

Welp, that woke her up. Marinette looked up at the handle name: CatNoir0103. Isn’t this…? She went back to the thread and at her responses. They were responded by a person with the handle CatNoir0102, and the word guest had been written next to it in light grey. Marinette bit back a laugh: had the person made an account just to talk to her? If they did, he had written down the wrong numbers! Quickly, she typed up a response.

_Hey there kitty cat! Lucky you I've always wanted a pet and I've always been a cat person. By the way, what’s up with your numbers? I’m sure the cat I talked to was 0102._

After staring at her reply, confident with what she wrote, Marinette clicked on another thread. When she clicked to go out, there was another red alert on the postcard icon. This was ridiculous, how could they reply so fast? Who would be up at this ungodly time, browsing on this ungodly website? Oh wait.

**Ah, about that…After our little back and forth, it turns out the CatNoir0102 handle has been TAKEN. What can one cat do but become the next best thing, CatNoir0103? It has been decided by fate.**

**My turn to ask a question! Ladybug, if I may call you that, what is your time zone? It’s currently 7 in the morning here in Paris.**

Paris? So this Cat Noir also lived in Paris? She thought about how much information she should give a complete stranger online. Then she worried about Cat Noir’s safety. Then she began to type.

_You, Cat Noir! Don’t you know internet safety rules? Don’t ever tell others where you live, it’s dangerous. Please be careful in the future, okay? And by the way, you are right: it **is** 7am in Paris right now. I checked my clock to be sure._

The reply took a lot longer than the first and Marinette found herself waiting for it. At the same time, she opened up her phone and looked up her most recent messages. Alya was right at the top, her last text unread. Marinette groaned as she brushed back her hair; the message was sent last night at 8pm. “Guess what your home girl just did for you ;D”

Marinette replied quickly: “What kind of trouble did you mix me up with today?”

Marinette refreshed the page: no answer. She looked at her phone: no answer. She looked at her bed: it was very inviting. Marinette contemplated her choices. The bed was winning. She refreshed the page in a last minute attempt. The red alert greeted.

**Sorry Ladybug, I was much too excited to talk with you that it completely went over my head. I promise I won’t divulge in more private matters that might harm my safety, cat’s honor! Ahh it's so exciting to talk and be friends with you!! First internet friend!**

He's so excitable, Marinette thought but answered it anyway. _First internet friend, is that right? We might not be real life friends but you’ll find internet friends can build as strong a bond as real ones. I’m sure you have a lot of friends you hang out with, Cat Noir, treasure them accordingly._

The reply was instant. **You’re amazing, Ladybug. Super inspiring! I want to be just like you. I hope these messages aren’t bothering you, I can stop.**

She typed out the response just as easily. _Oh nonsense, there is only one of you. Live life to the fullest and message me to tell me how great it is. I’ll read them all._

That should be enough to satisfy that cat, she huffed as she turned off the monitor screen. It was 7:30 now, half an hour’s nap already spent. Marinette decided to waste no time trudging herself back to her bed for the few remaining moments of naptime. She looked at her phone before she went to sleep. There were new text messages; haha, looks like she hadn’t taken her phone off silent, no wonder she never read them! Through half lidded eyes she opened up the text messages. All of them were from Alya.

Alya - “Girl, I sent that message last night, where were you?? Partying???? Invite me next time. :P”

Alya - “Ah, don’t tell me you fell asleep? I still have the news to deliver to you!! You didn’t even guess!”

Alya - “Fine, I’ll tell you. I can’t tell if you’re mad or asleep like this, probably asleep.”

Alya - “When you wake up, you’ll be surprised to know that the drama department has a new costume designer starting the new Spring Semester. And she’s a pretty, petite young thang who knows her way with a needle.”

Alya – “In case you didn’t get the hint, that’s you. You’re the new costume designer. Because you’re the best. LOVEYOUGOODLUCK!&notakebacks! Bye!”

Marinette definitely couldn’t sleep now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the next chapter from scratch. My original first chapter hasn't even seen daylight. I am dead to myself. Speaking of team NO SLEEP, here I am. At 2am. My next shift is at 6am. Please end me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette the costume designer & Adrien the escape artist. Also Alya and Nino hey.

 “Marinette, calm down; you’re overreacting.”

Marinette looked up from the table she had just slammed her face in, after smothering herself with her arms as she tried to hide her existence. Across from her, Alya sat coolly, taking a sip from her straw on her milkshake. It was 4pm: Marinette’s only class was over and, after hounding the halls for signs of Alya, she had tackled the girl and forced her into the cafeteria where Marinette had planned to thoroughly scold her _best_ friend. Or ex- _best_ friend, she didn’t know _what_ to call Alya right now. But she couldn’t even make herself do that. Instead, she wallowed in her little corner.

“It’s not like I hate the idea of being their costume designer, you know? It’s just I have no experience. I don’t know if I’ll do a good job. What if I mess up?” Marinette watched her friend carefully as she said this in a very low voice.

Alya raised an eyebrow surprisingly. “Seriously, girl? Have you seen your designs? If they were on a boutique—and reasonably priced—I would totally buy them all! They are beautiful, Marinette, I’m sure the drama team would love them. Remember the design competition with the derby hats? You won that.” She chuckled a little. “Seriously, I don’t know why you put yourself down so much. You are an amazing designer who can make amazing clothes. Anyone who says otherwise can say hello to my fist.” She raised one arm and punched the air for good measure. 

Marinette let out a laugh; Alya was right. Marinette wasn’t a quitter, and she certainly wouldn’t let one or two critiques stop her from designing outfits. She had won a design competition judged by Gabriel Agreste himself, and that was when she was in _high school_. She was older now, her designs even better. “Thanks, Alya, I needed to hear that,” she admitted. “You’re a great friend. But don’t think you’re off the hook for giving me extra work.”

Her friend warmed at the compliment, releasing a hearty laugh. “A friend who won’t let your talents go to waste,” she corrected. “Look, so what if you’re not in the other _fancy_ university? They were a bunch of snobs anyway, especially if they took _Chloe’s_ side.” Marinette winced at the mention; Alya totally noticed. “The way I see it, you’re better off now. You have more freedom, more time, plus you’ll be the underdog in almost all the fashion contests.” Alya reached over and put her hands on Marinette’s shoulders. “It doesn’t matter which school you go to, especially with those magic hands of yours. Just keep creating your wonderful designs, I believe you can do it.”

They looked at each other for a moment, smiling, until a cough broke the silence. A red-capped young man in glasses stood in front of their table with headsets in his ears trying very hard to intrude and not intrude at the same time. Alya, upon recognition, let go of Marinette’s shoulders and jabbed one elbow into the man’s ribs. The man tried to step back and ultimately failed, falling down. Marinette looked down from the table as the young man rubbed his head, headsets off. “That’s harsh, Alya,” he said.

“Serves you right for ruining our girl talk, Nino,” the girl scolded him with a smile. She wasn’t mad; they couldn’t be mad with each other. After meeting and practically growing together, the three of them, it was impossible to break the strong bonds they had. But they _could_ be jabbed in the ribs and scolded.

Nino stood up slowly and walked over to an adjacent table, taking one of their chairs as he dragged it over to sit with the girls. He placed it right in the middle and sat down very casually. “So, girl talk huh? Did you want a man’s advice on that?”

Alya burst into laughter, Marinette giggling. Nino raised his eyebrows, confused. “Oh, you were serious?” Alya said after a while, her mouth still grinning from the laughter. “No, trust me, we’re fine. I was just giving Marinette a pep talk since she’s going to be the costume designer for the drama department.”

“Oh, congrats!” Nino reached over to ruffle her hair while she moved to avoid it playfully. “They’re a bit eccentric but they’re all cool dudes. Hey, I help out with their sound system sometimes; I could totally show you around, introduce you and stuff.”

“Ah, it would be nice to see what I’m dealing with,” Marinette admitted.

“How about we all go?” Alya stood up and put her hands on her hips decidedly. Nino and Marinette both looked at her oddly. “What? No better time than the present.”

“No offense, Alya, but you’ve got no business in the drama department,” Nino said slowly. “Me and Marinette, we have jobs to do there.” He looked at Marinette. “Remember this, Marinette: All the drama _stays_ in Drama. Got it?” Marinette nodded.

Initially, the brunette looked offended. Then she waved off his concern. “Oh please, like that’s ever stopped Alya Cesaire, head journalist for FDU, from catching the latest scoop. Besides, there’s something you really need to see in there, Marinette.” She pulled at the girl’s arm, willing her to stand. With one last glance at Nino she stood, the latter reluctantly following her lead. “Alright, let’s go!”

They exited the cafeteria and headed to the drama department together, casual chitchat ensuing. Marinette was clutching Alya fiercely to the middle, forcing Nino to be by her friend’s side. It was clear to her and probably everyone else that they had a thing for each other, whether it was past or present she couldn’t tell, but she refused to be in the middle of it. So she talked with them at the beginning when they discussed favorite TV shows, then slowly said less and less until it was essentially their conversation. Instead she focused on the walk, on the crisp winter air that filled her. She didn’t really like it. Winter wasn’t her season, she decided, not the cold chills and limited fashion wardrobe. Today was warmer than usual, though, a sign that the spring semester would be coming soon. Ah, but there were still winter exams to take as well…

“Marinette! Why’d you slow down? We’re here!”

Alya was calling to her after, somehow, Marinette ended up twenty paces behind them. Curse her small feet and getting lost in her thoughts! She hurried to catch up and saw the entrance to the building: _Lachanter Theater_ was branded in cursive above. As soon as they passed the automatic front doors, they found themselves in the lobby area in front of the theater. Nino opened the theater doors and beckoned Marinette to come closer. Marinette did, followed by Alya, and the trio took in the sight.

The theater was larger than it looked from the outside, with three separate sections leading up to the elevated stage. Each section had fifteen rows from what she could count, the outer sections had rows of six seats each and the middle section had rows of fourteen seats. Although the theater lights were off, the emergency lights on the floor were illuminated bright as they led up to the one bright spotlight shining onstage. Despite absorbing all the information she could about the place, Marinette could only stare. It felt like it’s own place inside, like its own separate reality where school, university and the outside world didn’t exist. Just this.

A tap on her shoulder; Marinette turned around to face Alya. “Girl, that’s not what I wanted to show you,” she whispered as Marinette’s eyes widened. “Oh yes, there’s more. And you’re going to love this. But we have to go around, okay?”

 _Lachanter Theater_ was the drama department’s main building and, although the theater itself was it’s main focus point, the rest of the building still had classrooms, break rooms and studio rooms for its students. Marinette should have guessed there were alleyways and special corridors as well. Alya took Marinette’s hand and they opened a side door no bigger than a broom closet. Except it _was_ bigger. Granted, it was small in size but it led farther in, lit up by emergency strip lights on the floor. Following Alya’s lead, the trio entered the narrow corridor and faithfully followed until it widened into a big room with one wall of mirrors. They split apart when they reached the room, Marinette confirming the other side also had a similar corridor running and, on the opposite side of the mirror, was a wall.

“Backstage dressing rooms,” Nino explained as he gestured to the mirrors. “You can tell by the ego trip one can get here. Actors and their faces, you know? On that side, Marinette, is the way back onstage.” Marinette looked from the exit she was at over to Nino who was making funny faces in one mirror but he was pointing to the wall. She walked over and saw there was a door right in the middle.

 “But _more importantly_ ,” Alya said as she steered Marinette towards a door on the right. It was plain white with the word “Office” on top. “You get your own office. To sit and design and create. Take a look!”

Marinette’s face bloomed in excitement, her heart racing as she opened the door. The room itself was of decent capacity, she figured, and a whole wall was all wardrobes and closets. But at the front were a chair, a desk and a sofa placed right in front of a large window facing outside. If you took out the rack of clothes, it would certainly look like an office albeit a very empty one.

“I already know where to search for you if I can’t find you from now on,” Alya was saying very smugly. Somewhere behind her, Nino was shouting, probably testing out the acoustics. “So, what do you think?”

Marinette was walking around the room now, feeling it out. “It’s….definitely roomy,” she said. She couldn’t decide if she loved it or hated it and decided, instead, to plan to love it. Already her mind was buzzing with plans to paint it pink, add a potted plant and sit for hours in the chair designing.

“Hey guys,” she motioned to Nino and Alya who beckoned closer. “Come to think of it, what is the drama department going to do next that needs costumes?”

“Beats me, they usually tell me at the last second,” Nino confessed.

“Hold on, let me check my sources.” Alya took out her cellphone and sent a text message, humming as she waited for a reply. “Ah, Mylene says they’re producing a play for the spring. Looks like all the actors are actually headed to the theater right now. Mylene says they want to introduce themselves.”

“I can get the measurements today,” Marinette reasoned excitably. “Maybe start on some designs, as long as I get an idea of what we’re going for.”

“ _We’re_ going for?” Alya repeated with a smug smile. She put her hands on Marinette’s shoulders as the latter realized what she’d just said. “Looks like you’re already one of the drama department staff. Glad to hear _confident Marinette_ again.”

Marinette’s face absolutely beamed with joy. “Hear? Wait until you see _confident Marinette_ ’s designs.”

.

..

...

 

He had to go to Francois Dupont University.

 For the past few days, the university did not stop haunting him. Every website he ventured suddenly had an FDU ad on the side. His favorite internet radio station? FDU had their ad there, too. Even on the offline radio station he tuned into there was girl asking for a shoutout to an FDU classmate. Now, Adrien understood that ads were cookie-tracked and tailored to your specific interests but at no place and time did he recall ever thinking about FDU. One Tuesday afternoon during an extremely boring intermission in his modeling schedule, he caved in and pressed the ad.

 And FDU wasn’t all that bad. It was a large university with a large student body from around the world. They accepted international students so a supermodel shouldn't be a problem. They offered a wide range of classes and degrees. Admissions were based on academics, extracurricular activities and placement exams. The exams could be scheduled at convenience, something he thought was quite considerate of them. Getting a transcript as a homeschooled student might be a little difficult but he could get from one of his home tutors if he phrased the question innocently enough.

More importantly, FDU’s location made it perfect. Almost like it was planned, FDU was three blocks behind the modeling agency Adrien had to visit every day, per his father’s orders. He could sneak off from the agency to go to school every day, should he join. And now he wanted to because the thought of leaving a stuffy office surrounded by nervous employees afraid of his nonexistent temper tantrum and enter a bright and open university campus full of nice people was heart-racing. It was... the perfect crime.

Adrien looked up from his laptop as he thought. It was 3.40pm and his 2pm photo shoot had ended early after the lead model had stubbed her toe. His driver, a large man lovingly dubbed Gorilla, picked him up and dropped him in the previously mentioned modeling agency. And here he was at the lobby, using the free wi-fi on his laptop to look at the university plaguing his life. He was very aware of the receptionists stealing glances at him. When their eyes met, they quickly looked away and typed faster. Sometimes he could hear camera shutters going off; whether it were the employees or others going in and out of the agency, Adrien had not bothered to check.

He had to try it. 

Being a supermodel, Adrien was no stranger to sneaking out of places he had to but it was plain unfathomable to think of using that skill to sneak out of somewhere he was suppoused to be into a place he wasn't. He should practice. Adrien looked at the clock again, remembering his father’s secretary Nathalie Sancoeur had said she would pick him up at 4:30pm. He had time.

 He stood up from where he sat and the whole floor stirred along with him. He froze in place; slowly, the receptionists went back to work and the other employees eased back to what they were doing. Adrien put his laptop away in his messenger bag slowly and zipped everything up. He approached one of the receptionists who immediately perked up when he was over a foot away from her. Standing right across from her, the poor girl already greeting him for the fourth time today, Adrien almost blanked out. What could he say to get out?

 “Is there anything I can get for you, _sir_?” the receptionist repeated for the second time, trying to get his attention. Adrien continued staring dumbly as he realized he had zoned out, sending the receptionist in a panic. “Maybe a cup of coffee or something?”

That’s it! “I would!!-- like a cup of coffee,” Adrien said, catching himself before he sounded too excited. The secretary smiled, perhaps relieved she could help. “A good cup of coffee. But, I would like to get one myself. Is there a local location place I could get a good cup of coffee?”

 Wow that sounded terrible and very very fake but the receptionist didn’t seem to catch that. She was still positively excited she had something to get the Agreste boy out of her hands. “Of course!” she practically shouted. “There is a very good café actually right around this block that makes good coffee on Gotlib Street, right across from the Boulangerie Patisserie.”

 “Thank you,” Adrien said almost a little too quickly as he headed out the door.

“Wait!” Adrien froze as he turned, the receptionist calling after him. “Mr. Agreste, should I tell Miss Sancoeur you’ll be outside?”

 “There’s no need, I’ll be right back,” Adrien answered and then quickly escaped before she asked him anything else.

As soon as he was out the door he turned onto Gotlib street, passing right by the café –Crepuscule café, he noted in case he was asked to verify- the receptionist had directed him to. FDU was two blocks down and Adrien suddenly felt nervous as he saw the large arc up ahead beckoning over to him. People were coming in and out.  Was he allowed to walk in without being a student? He didn’t know. But he wanted to see. Adrien took out a pair of sunglasses from his bag and put them on as he hurried down the street. There were people on both sides of the street now, some of them rushing past him. He looked down as he walked. Could everyone tell he was nervous, that he didn’t belong? That’s certainly what it felt like. _Breathe, Adrien, breathe. Relax!_ Slowly, he did and looked up.

And that’s when he realized nobody was paying attention to him. Granted, there were very few times he walked without supervision or walked, _period_ , but it always felt like he was being watched. Right now on this sidewalk on Gotlib street, no one was. The boys in front of him were talking about a soccer game they had watched together. The girl who pushed him as she ran forward didn’t spare him a second glance, running full-speed into the university. The men and women he passed spared him a strange glance before rolling their eyes. It was like he was invisible! No, wait, they could see him so that wasn’t the right term—it was like he was _normal_.

But he couldn’t get himself past the arc. For some reason it felt wrong. The university felt right, yes, but walking in when he wasn’t a student there felt wrong. And never in his life did he want something as much as joining this university. He watched the couple pass by him holding hands,  the friends gossiping as they walked through, even lone strangers wearing earphones as they bopped to the beat entered the university. He wanted that. To walk in with a girlfriend, maybe that was aiming high, but to walk in casually or with a friend, that sounded great. He turned to return back to the agency when he knocked right into someone, the stranger’s hand smacking the sunglasses off his face. Adrien froze in place.

“Oh, dude, my bad.” Adrien turned to the bearer of the voice and watched a young man in a red hat and glasses bent down and picked up his sunglasses, looking at them carefully first. “Prada sunglasses, huh? Didn’t even know they made those but I bet they’re expensive. Here you go." 

He was looking right at him. This stranger was looking right at him and giving him his sunglasses with a polite smile. It felt like real kindness. Adrien noticed, too, that no one was giving him a second glance without his sunglasses on. Maybe everyone was blind...

“Uh, sorry to rush you and all seeing as I bumped into you but I gotta meet my friend now,” the stranger was saying rapidly. “She just told me where she is and if I miss her, it’s going to take ages for her to reply to me again.” The stranger took Adrien’s hand and put the sunglasses in his palm. “See you around, Prada.” And he was off.

Adrien headed back to the modeling agency dumbfounded. He didn’t know a lot about universities but he’d learned a little today. In universities, people didn’t recognize supermodels. With or without sunglasses disguises. In universities you could make friends. Even get a silly nickname like Prada. Adrien hoped he would meet that stranger again.

 

* * *

 

**Living life to the fullest huh. Hm…that sounds _really hard_! It sounds like I have to jump out of buildings and planes from now until I die. Maybe then I’d have cool stories to share with you.**

  _Oh don’t do dramatic things like that! Even doing something like, oh, trying out a new pastry is living life to the fullest. Ah, I didn’t know the strawberry tarts from so-and-so café were so tasty!_

**I went to Crepuscule café today. Ah, I didn’t know the strawberry tarts from Crepuscule café were so tasty! ;)**

_Haha, very funny! & Cat Noir, what did I say the other day about personal information!? Sigh, it’s a good thing Crepuscule is a franchise and there’s dozens of them all over Paris, or I’d be worried you actually live somewhere near me. ;)_

**Oh, so you DO live in Paris?? LadybugLadyluck lives up to her name!! (I’m so lucky to live in the same city but it’s ok if you don’t want to meet). ALRIGHT LADYBUG. HELP ME LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST. ADVICE. PLEASE. AND THANK YOU.**

_Do what your heart tells you to do, whatever makes you happy._

**Have you done that before? And did it work out in the end?**

_Oh yes, I’ve listened to my heart for both little and big things. Ladybug, it said, eat the cream puff—you deserve to cheat on your diet. And I did and it was great._

**I guess it’s my turn to laugh. Haha, very cute. :P (PS I’m sure you look just great.)**

_(I do.) & I listened to my heart the time it said, Ladybug, this university isn’t for you. I know you want to do your dream job so badly you’re willing to put up with everything bad here but listen, there’s more than one way to reach the goal. _

**That sounds like a very hard decision to make. I have newfound respect for My Lady and I hope everything is going well for you.**

_Thanks Cat. To be honest, it was very hard advice to take and my heart had been telling me that since the beginning. It took a good friend to tell me to follow my heart for me to follow through. I’m just passing along the advice._

**It’s great advice. I’ll be sure to follow it properly.**

_You haven’t followed it yet then?_

**Well, I sort of did?? Kind of tried to walk into a university I haven’t even applied to yet. I think I’m fated to join this university.**

_What makes you say that? ( & walking into a university you don’t belong to is BIG trouble, mister!)_

**Ad-placements on the internet. And in real life. (I didn’t walk in and I didn’t get caught!)**

_Haha. Is your heart telling you to do it?_

**Yeah. & I’m listening.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say friday? Ahahahaha. I threw in an extra long chapter as an apology. OTL. If there is such a thing as Crepuscule cafe, I hope their strawberry tarts are to die for.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien has a bad day.

He’d done it. After getting a tutor to gather all the materials, Adrien had pressed submit. And the screen had confirmed his submitted application. Adrien leaned back on his computer chair and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He’d applied to FDU. It had gone through. Sure they had to accept him first but his heart was beating excitably at what lay ahead for him. He’d be surrounded by people his age who weren’t interested in his background. He’d take classes with them, maybe make some friends. He’d go to the cafeteria and try weird food; maybe it tasted better with friends. He’d go to sports games and root for the university team. Maybe he'd join the fencing team, win a few tournaments. His father would be proud.

 Or maybe he wouldn’t. He hadn’t told his father about attending Francois Dupont University but it was impossible to reach him now since he was on a business trip in Milan. He hadn’t even told Nathalie, actually, who he had seen every day until she departed earlier this morning to meet his father. He was sure they wouldn’t approve as they liked to fill his open schedule with last minute photo shoots, press conferences and dinner rehearsals he wasn’t interested in joining. Perhaps they would even force him to quit if they found out, though a little ray of hope did wish for their understanding. Anyway, with Nathalie and Father in Milan that meant for Adrien that the next few days he was a free man, except he had to visit the modeling agency each of those days. But what he did during, before and after was up to him. See, now would have been a great time to have friends.

  _Visit the school!_ a little voice whispered to him. Ah, but he couldn’t; Ladybug said he would get in trouble and, out of the two of them, he reasoned she had more experience in these situations. Even though the school was right there. Patience Adrien, he had to tell himself. Patience is a virtue, rewarded in good time. He wasn’t sure if he made up that last phrase but like hell he would stick to it.

 Lucky for him, his patience was rewarded. After spending two days going in and out of the modeling agency, messaging LadybugLadyluck and trying to max out his high score in the his videogames, he received a phone call from an unknown number. Now, Adrien had two phones: one the company and everyone called and another he used only for mobile gaming, and it was the gaming cellphone that rang. Curious as he only gave out the number to things he was interested in (ie sweepstakes and LADYBUG should she ever ask), he accepted the call.

 It was a call from FDU’s administration department ready to schedule his placement exams. She sounded like a very lively and cheery woman whom was maybe a bit surprised that Adrien was just as lively and cheery as she was when she called so early in the morning. But Adrien didn’t mind the time; he was more excited about the news. They gave him a range of dates and hours and Adrien, overeager, insisted on the earliest date possible. Which was the same day, of course. The woman tried to explain that most candidates take their exams a week or two to better prepare but Adrien insisted he had taken the practice exams, so they penciled him in for the 4pm placement exam of that day in Lachanter building.

 As soon as Adrien hung up the phone he was bursting with energy. He was excited as he got dressed, excited as he entered the car and excited as he walked into the modeling agency. Oh _god_ was he excited! Adrien couldn’t help being so giddy, his mouth stuck in a permanent grin. The receptionists greeted him with a similar smile, his attitude rubbing off on them.

 “M. Agreste, the publishing company will be passing by at 10am to finalize the pictures for this month’s spread. The photographers will be doing a test shoot at 12pm on the third floor. Right after, the photo shoot for the perfume company should get started. That’s your schedule for the day.”

 Ah. So he had photo shoots today. It’s not like Adrien had completely forgotten, it’s more like it went over his head. No matter, he figured. A test shoot was half an hour at most and the perfume shoot shouldn’t take that long either provided they all did as they had to. And Adrien knew how to pose for the camera very well. He could make it work, he had to.

 A few moments later, it was clear that “making it work” would not be an easy task. The first task of the day, meeting with the publishing company to choose pictures, ended up with the editor and the writer arguing in front of him over which picture captured a "loving look". It honestly felt so surreal for him because all the pictures were of Adrien staring at cheesecakes. The photos were for a relationship advice column and the photographer had noticed Adrien eyeing cheesecakes during the shoot so he used them to get the look he aimed for. Adrien was sure they would crop out the cheesecake and zoom in on his face, but right now it looked really dumb watching two men argue over the red velvet cheesecake and the caramel apple crunch. As the owner of the faces, he insisted on the red velvet cheesecake face as it was his favorite. They then headed to argue over two other photos until the meeting adjourned at 11:30am.

Half an hour of break allowed Adrien to run over to Crepuscule café real quick, partly because he wanted to create a behavior the receptionists would be comfortable with and partly because he wanted an iced coffee real bad. There was a line. By the time he came back it was 5 minutes before 12pm so he headed to the test shoot and saw it was a complete mess. Most of the models there were amateurs and Adrien had been asked to join to show them the ropes. But then the photographers were having issues with their cameras so, for an hour, they were fiddling with that while Adrien fiddled with his phone. He sent a couple of messages to Ladybug really quick:

**How unlucky can a black cat be?**

_I take it you're having one of those days as well? That makes two of us._

**Having a bad day, too?**

_The absolute worst._

**Want to meet up at Crepuscule café and talk about it?**

_Haha, very funny. Like I’d be lucky enough to find the one by you._

**I could tell you?**

_Or you could not? :P Anyway, let’s be positive. A day is as lucky as you make it. Positive thoughts, positive day!_

**Easy for you to say. Ladybugs are lucky charms.**

 Adrien was snapped away from his phone conversation as his name was called. At their request, he posed, twirled, posed, looked, turned, spun, posed until they were satisfied. The test shoot took half an hour as it was supposed to, but now the perfume photo shoot he expected would start at 12:30pm actually started at 1:45pm. He watched the clock anxiously as the photographers, makeup artists, stylists and other models entered the room. Quickly he ran into the dressing room and changed to the clothes requested: white collar, black pants, green tie. A stylist did his hair a little messy in the front and tied extensions to his hair so he had a little ponytail in the back. They applied makeup to him as he stood perfectly in place. He had 2.5 hours before his exam, he could not afford to mess up.

 And yet everything did. Although Adrien did his best to be perfect in every shoot, one of the models always messed up. He tried to overcompensate for their lack of performance by merely posing better but the photographers became entranced and requested more pictures of him, which upset the lead model. In a fit, she kicked a stand that then fell and injured her. Her manager requested the shoot to be postponed. Adrien looked at the time, exhausted but happy it was over. It was 3:45pm. There was no time to be happy he decided as he ran out the room, down the stairs and out to Francois Dupont University.

 It seemed more people were staring at him this time than the first, even with sunglasses on. Adrien figured that was reasonable seeing as he had just run out of a photo shoot and straight into a university wherein he had no idea where he was going. Lachanter building, he remembered, but he didn’t know where it was. He glanced at his phone: 3:50pm. He had no time. Quickly, he grabbed the nearest person and asked.

 “Which was is it to Lachanter theater?”

 Ah, the red capped stranger from before. Wow, Adrien didn’t even notice he had grabbed the same person he had run into a few days ago until the young man was in front of him. The latter was startled out of his headphones by the sudden question and gave him a once over. “Is that the norm over at _Angelique_?” he asked first, then shook his head. “Nevermind, you actors and your fancy clothes always making the rest of us look like commoners. Anyway, you’re way late. Lancaster is, like, down that road. It’s the one to the left with the fancy theater entrance, can’t miss it bro.”

 Adrien warmed at his answered. “Thanks,” he said, relieved he had a way.

 The other just gave him a salute with his index and middle finger idly. “No problem dude, break a leg.” And both boys went off in their separate directions, Adrien too preoccupied with making it on time.

 Adrien practically sprinted down the road indicated until he saw the theater, almost running into the doors. He checked his phone for the time again: it was just five minutes short of 4pm, why had the stranger said he was late? Oh well. As he entered, he noticed the lobby was full of people and he wondered with a little giddiness if they were all taking the same test he was. Could he safely assume they had been instructed to wait in the lobby until it was time? Feeling a little more comfortable surrounded by others, Adrien focused on catching his breath as he straightened his shirt and tie to look presentable. It wasn’t until he was trying to fix his hair that he realized half the room was staring at him casually. No, they were all definitely staring at him as they took little glances here and there. He became nervous, afraid they had caught on to his identity but he hoped the sunglasses would do the trick. He was having second thoughts over their effectiveness when a voice spooked him out of his thoughts.

 “Good afternoon everyone, thank you for coming today.” Adrien turned to the bearer of the voice, a young woman standing above them. It was the same voice that had called him earlier. “My name is Mlle. Delafleur, one of the advisors in the administration department. I will be supervising today’s placement exam. If everyone would please line up by the staircase on your left, we will all head into the exam room.”

 All the persons in the lobby quickly filed into a line as instructed, Adrien headed straight to the back. He tried to ignore the eyes that glanced at him as he followed the line up two flights of stairs. They entered a large lecture room slowly, Mlle. Delafleur giving every person that passed her a sheet of paper. As soon as it was Adrien’s turn, however, she put her hand across the doorway, blocking his way inside.

 “My apologies, Monsieur, but this is a placement exam for prospective students joining Francois Dupont University,” she said in her same cheery voice. “I was informed we were having students visit from Angelique university as well. It seems you've lost your way but I would be more than happy to assist you finding them.”

 Adrien looked from the inside of the lecture room, where everyone stared, to Mlle. Delafleur, who was insistent on not moving her arm. He lowered his sunglasses to really see her and spoke carefully. “Mlle. Delafleur, it’s me, Adrien Agreste,” he whispered. “You called me this morning and I insisted on taking the first exam available.”

 If this surprised the older woman she was very careful about not showing it. However, she did reply back in a serious voice matching his. “I’m sorry if I didn’t catch on so quickly, Monsieur Agreste. I didn’t think you’d be so careless as to walk around in flashy attire after expressing your interest in entering our school with a low profile.”

 Adrien’s face flashed red with embarrassment; she was right. Even if was just wiping the makeup off his face, he should’ve changed a little. “I’m so sorry, the photo shoot was running late and I wanted to make sure I had enough time for the exam,” he explained.

 “We could have rescheduled,” she said simply. “We could have moved the location. As it is now, you’re distracting the other applicants and delaying the exam. I have half the mind to reject your application right now.”

 Adrien clutched on to her hand as she motioned to enter the room. “Please, Mlle. Delafleur,” he said, no, begged. “I want to take the exam. I want to go to the school.”

 She looked at him, really looked at him for a moment. Her brown eyes were piercing his green sulking ones as he tried to evoke just how much he wanted to go. Finally, she gave in and sighed. “We’ll reschedule to tomorrow, same time,” she said as she wrote a phone number on a piece of paper and put it in his hand. “Don’t dress up this time, alright?”

 “Alright,” he said with a smile, tucking the phone number away. He watched as she entered the lecture room, closing the door right after her. With a self-satisfied grin, he put on his sunglasses and retraced his steps to head back outside. Sure, he couldn’t enter this school yet but _patience_ , Adrien! Just one more day! After all, look how much of a disaster being impatient had caused him.

 As he went down the last staircase, finally landing on the lobby floor, he heard a lot of whispering and a lot of giggling. In the lobby were a group of girls, all of them looking at their cellphones as they talked to each other. And he froze when he heard one of them mention _Adrien Agreste_.

 “But how do you know it was Adrien Agreste?” one of them said to the other. “The picture is really blurry. I don’t know why he’s running so fast to get to FDU though.”

 “You’re telling me that ruffled blond hair isn’t Adrien?” another scoffed. “I would know that from a mile away. _But, just in case it’s not_ , we’re looking for a blond model, okay?”

  _Crap!_ These girls were trouble, Adrien knew. He recognized the cameras that usually held the paparazzi which meant the university had somehow kept them at bay, but hadn’t stopped them from giving regular students their gear and incentive to track him down. What’s worse was they were right by the door, preventing him from exiting. The good news? They were in the same room, same floor, and they had yet to notice him. Not wanting to push his luck any further, he sneaked to the first door he found, opened it and closed it. But not before one of them caught his eye. He heard one of them shriek and he locked the door behind him. Honestly, he had expected to have lock himself inside a broom closet based on the space he had, but as he stepped back to lean on the other side, he found it was a passageway. And so he followed it, hoping it would lead to another way out.

Instead, it led to the dressing room backstage of the theater. It wasn't that hard to guess where he was as he walked around, taking in his surroundings. He figured he had to hide for a couple of hours until the paparazzi and the girls gave up but the area here was far too open for him to hide or blend in with. A door caught his attention, marked "Office." Adrien took a look around the deserted backstage before he ventured to check the self-proclaimed office. He turned the knob slowly and peeked in: nobody in here as well. But something did catch his attention inside: he walked away from the door towards the office table and the item on it.

It was a black mask.

* * *

 

**Is Ladybug available to give this little kitty some very needed advice?**

_Ladybug is always available for her Cat Noir. Let’s hear it, kitty._

**I want more friends. I want to know how Ladybug makes friends. It would really help me!**

_Um, I don’t really do anything special? Just being your genuine self will get you more friends, at least it’ll get you REAL friends._

**What if you don’t know what your genuine self is like? I have a friend who is used to acting a certain way and he’s not sure if that’s really him anymore. What should he do if he wants to make friends?**

_Ah, I think I know how to help your friend! Tell him to wear glasses and pretend it’s a mask; you know, like a superhero? Since he’s someone else now and not himself and nobody knows it’s really him, he can say and act the way he wants. At least, that’s the idea. He might need an actual superhero outfit to pull it off, though…_

**Thank you for the idea! I think it’s a really good idea, since he’ll be in a brand new place and he might be able to pull it off. Thanks again, Ladybug!**

_Anytime. Tell your friend he’s more than welcome to ask advice from me again. (:_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is a plot. Why are you speeding it. Ella do you even know about plot progression? Also you work in 15 minutes why are you writing fanfiction. Avid supporter of #letadrieneat2k16


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette, meet Cat Noir.

Adrien locked the door behind him quickly as he entered the office and walked over to the mask, remembering Ladybug's words. Ok maybe now wasn't a good time to pretend to be someone else but it was a good time to put on a disguise. It was made of a strong plaster and painted over with a metallic black with black laces on the side so as to easily tie on. He put it on. I mean, why not?—masks were made to be worn, were they not? Foolish hope convinced him the mask might be able to cover his identity and he might be able to escape the girls. Then again, maybe a more serious disguise may be needed: he walked over to the wall of wardrobes and found a pair of cat ears hanging nearby. His thoughts went to Cat Noir, his internet persona. That’s right, he was in the theater section! He could always disguise himself as one of the theater students! Adrien went through the clothes, opting for a black sequin jacket he put over his white shirt. He took off his green tie and popped his collar before looking in the mirror. The reflection showed a very aloof catboy, definitely not a famous Agreste model.

There was a sound coming from outside the door and Adrien tensed, remembering he was hiding from paparazzi. He tiptoed by the door to listen, not that he had to particularly try; the girls outside were shouting.

“What are you doing, Marinette? You can’t stop us from searching that room. Adrien Agreste might be in there!" 

“I don’t care if Gabriel Agreste himself is in the room, you’re not coming in! Not until I’m done!”

“Give me a break, it’s Adrien Agreste!”

“Do you see this face, hm? Do you see these bags under my eyes? And, most importantly, do you see this written authorization to use this office room ALONE, no distractions? Now, are we done here.”

Adrien wanted to laugh; whoever this Marinette girl was, she sure was good at putting them in their place. But he didn’t have time to listen in anymore. It was only a matter of time before one of the girls came in—whether it would be one of the fans or the Marinette girl he didn’t have time to find out. Instead, he looked for an escape. With the door blocked, that only option was the window. He ran on the tips of his feet the window and tried to quietly, quietly open it.

The window didn’t cooperate. In fact, it groaned loudly against his touch. Adrien tsk’d in response. The chatter he had heard outside the door stopped suddenly. They had to have know. There were no other options now, he figured, as he opened the door harshly. It complied with a loud groan, leading the way to the outside.

The office door opened and three girls ran into the room, their eyes excitedly searching until they met with the open window. Common sense kicked in. Their delighted faces quickly twisted sour and they turned to surround Marinette. “You’ve ruined everything!” one yelled at her, furious. Another began to cry. The third was just seething at her. 

Marinette groaned as she rubbed her head. “Alright, I’ve ruined everything now _can you please go_?” she shouted in return as she walked past them and tried to catch all the papers that flew with the open window. “Blame me all you want but there is still a written authorization for this place and if you don’t leave in 15 minutes, I’m calling the campus police.”

Two pairs of seething eyes glared at her, the last one still crying, but they complied and walked towards the exit. One of them was comforting the crying girl by telling her they still had a chance of running into the model if they went around the Science building when her foot stepped on fabric. She stopped in her tracks. Marinette looked up at the sound and her eyes met the other girl’s. They were in perfect eye contact as the other girl dragged her foot and the fabric ripped. Marinette growled in response, putting down her papers as she readied to attack. Not willing to take it further, she stepped over the fabric and briskly walked away. The door slammed shut behind them.

As soon as there was silence, Marinette sat on the desk by the stack of papers she had collected and groaned. _It just wasn’t her day._

The day of horrors began with something not so horrible: as was the occasion every other week, Marinette overslept and her mother had gotten started without her. Sometimes Marinette could be a very heavy sleeper and couldn’t hear the knock at the trapdoor. It was a Thursday, luckily, so there were no early orders that she had to attend to but she still felt horrible groggily standing and running downstairs at 6:30am only to find her mother had finished everything.

“It’s alright, honey,” Mama Cheng had said after she apologized. “I know you’re busy with your new role as costume designer. Your mama could handle this much by herself.”

Her father came shortly after and greeted them both with a kiss on the cheek. He was at least 80% healed Marinette figured by the way he hobbled less with every step. He was making an effort to walk normally and it was working to his advantage. With the bakery tended to, Marinette went upstairs back to her room and to the desk she had accidentally slept on the night before.

 The meeting with the acting team had been great; she’d met everyone but two people (they were extras, Mylene assured her their costumes were not as necessary) and had managed to get everyone’s measurements as well as a copy of the script. Mylene had summarized it as a combination of Alice in Wonderland and Cinderella with everything Cinderella entails except she chases the rabbit into Wonderland, joins their ball with the help of the Cheshire Cat and dances with the Prince of Hearts before she’s chased away by the Queen of Hearts into her own world. Eventually, the prince recognizes her when trying to match her missing slipper and she finds out the prince of the ball she had been meaning to go to and the Prince of Hearts she danced are the same person. Strange, yes, but it left a lot to the imagination—especially when it came to set and costume design. She bought a notebook for it, the first page already noted with everyone’s measurements and the second brainstorming a couple of designs with the Cinderella theme.

Her phone rang. Marinette checked the caller id before picking up: Mlle. Passucre, the teacher in charge of the production. She opened the phone and put it to her ear just as Mlle. Passucre spoke. “Marinette, you’re needed in the office room _tout de suite_."

And then she hung up. Marinette sighed as she looked at the time: it was barely 7am and she needed to be at the theater? Mylene had warned her that the theater teacher was a bit eccentric but she hadn’t expected this. She showered quickly and changed into the first few comfortable things she saw: black pants, pink oversized sweater and (already) laced up boots. She took her sketching notebook, an extra notebook and pencils with her just in case and left the house after saying goodbye to her parents. The walk to school was brisk, her hands busy braiding her hair into one long braid and tying it before she ran the other half of the way to the theater.

Mlle. Passucre was a tall thin woman, Marinette immediately learned as she ran into her when she opened the office door. She had been dressed all in black as if in mourning, and her blonde hair tied up in a tight bun. This was their first meeting but Mlle. Passucre had a frown that refused to fall off her face as she looked Marinette up and down. The latter smiled awkwardly as she waited for…anything really. Like an explanation as to why she was there at 7:05am.

Finally, Mlle. Passucre glanced away from Marinette and turned to look at the office desk. “You pass,” she said simply.

Marinette was thrown off guard. “Pardon?” she asked, and Mlle. Passucre repeated her last statement once more without so much as a glance. “No, I mean, pass? Pass what?”

“My dear, you pass in terms of how fast you respond to emergencies,” Mlle. Passucre continued. “A member of the theater must always be ready and act accordingly. It took you, what, ten minutes tops? At such a last minute request you arrived here practically brand new. And to that, _bravo_ , Marinette.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said because that was all she could say.

“Now, I suppose you have documents for me to review?” Mlle. Passucre continued the conversation at her own pace as she walked over to the desk and sat on the chair. She looked at Marinette expectantly, the latter which stared back. Just as the theater teacher’s face scrunched up to a scowl, Marinette did remember she brought something.

“I brought my sketchbook with me with a bunch of  preliminary designs I'd love to run by you,” Marinette said, relieved she had brought her sketchbook with her. This was a lie since they were all mostly doodles but whatever would calm the wrath of the theater teacher Marinette was willing to sacrifice. She looked into her bag and gave the teacher the sketchbook, and Mlle. Passucre went through each page.

She ripped a page out. Marinette looked at her in horror, but Mlle. Passucre paid her no mind. “No,” she said simply. “We’re going for an Alice in Wonderland feel, understand? So we need bright clothes, bright designs. All of these designs need… _je ne sais quoi_. Marinette?”

The aforementioned girl was trying hard not to lunge at the teacher for ruining a perfectly good page, but quickly recovered. “As I previously mentioned, they were preliminary designs,” Marinette replied as she tried to keep an even voice. “I wasn’t sure what direction we were going with but I will appreciate your feedback and will take it into account with my next designs.”

Mlle. Passucre seemed to be satisfied with that response. She closed the sketchbook and stood up from the chair. “Then there’s no need to review this, is there?” she said confidently. She motioned to leave but then quickly turned back as if she just remembered something.  “There is one matter we must discuss, Marinette. It concerns your background.”

Marinette masked her surprise when she asked, “How so, Mlle. Passucre?”

“Our spring production this year is aiming to be different, _vibrant_ , if you will.” Marinette nodded because it was a definite fact. “In order to achieve something fresh we have partnered with another university. Your old university, _Angelique_ , to be exact. I trust this won’t be an issue?” Marinette tensed at the mention of her previous alma mater, but shook her head. “Good. Some of their students might be visiting today. Well then, I expect your next designs to be better. Call me as soon as you’re ready and we’ll have a conference to sit down and chat. Until then, _au revoir_!” And, with that, she left.

 Marinette was absolutely left speechless. First things first, though, she picked up her ripped up sketches and put them inside her sketchbook so she wouldn’t loose them. Then she sat on the chair Mlle. Passucre had sat in and sighed. And took out her sketchbook.  She wrote down all the feedback on the first page.  Alright, so she knew what the design focus was, she just had to draw good enough designs to impress Mlle. Passucre. It wasn’t impossible, but it might require a few marathons of Alice in Wonderland for it to work out. Again, not impossible. She tried not to think about _Angelique_. She failed at least two times.

Marinette hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she heard one of her ringtones go off. She received a message from Chat Noir again. She smiled a little; although she had been initially wary to befriend a complete stranger, Chat Noir was really warming up to her. Hopefully he wasn’t a 40-year-old serial killer like the TV shows always warned. A part of her had only agreed to this friendship because she had felt bad he had no friends but that _had_ to be a lie, right? Everyone had at least one friend.

 She replied to his messages and decided to take her own advice: that’s right, Marinette, let’s stay positive! She opened up her sketchbook again and doodled some more as she thought about the ball scene. It would undoubtedly be the most important part of the whole play but she always wondered why the prince could never recognize Cinderella just by face. Did she have an invisible mask or something?

“A mask would be nice…” Marinette murmured to herself as she drew a mask onto her drawing of a girl. “And I bet they would all dress up as animals since it’s Alice in Wonderland…” And she was gone in that streak of thought, design after design pouring out of her pencil.

At 1pm she decided to take a break and walked outside to get something to eat from the cafeteria, nothing big or heavy since she was going back to the theater as soon as it was over. She had decided on a wrap and was walking out when she bumped into someone. Nathanael to be exact.

“Marinette!” he exclaimed, visibly surprised.

“Hello Nathanael,” she greeted him back as she looked at him. They had been classmates as children and thus his presence made her feel comfortable. “Sorry about bumping into you; I’ve got to run back to the theater and finish my designs.”

“You’re working with the theater department?” he asked, suddenly flustered. “Wait, you’re attending FDU? I thought you were at the other school, at—”

“ _Angelique_ , yeah,” Marinette finished for him with an awkward laugh. “It didn’t quite work out.” _And, by an odd twist of fate, we’ll be working with them in our spring production. Funny right?_ She couldn’t add that.

“Oh,” was all he could reply, but he scrambled to find another topic. “I work with the theater department, too, during their shows. I design their set.”

At this, Marinette perked up. “Do you really?” she said rather than asked as she looked up at him with stars in her eyes. Nathanael wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with all the attention but he couldn’t really turn away. “Come to think of it, Nathanael, don’t you major in arts? I’m thinking of maybe making masks for the actors and I’m not sure…”

“We have extra plaster in one of the art rooms,” Nathanael replied quickly. “Do you want to make a test mask? Masks made of plaster are quick and easy to make. We can make one in less than an hour.”

Marinette checked the time on her phone. “Can I hold you to that?” she asked as she looked from the time to the artist in front of her.

Said artist smiled. “Of course, let’s go.”

Thirty minutes later, Marinette had a mask in her hands and was smoothing it out with sandpaper, both inside and out. It was quick and easy as her friend had told her, especially since they were only covering the eyes, and Nathanael had even offered to be the subject for her. She looked at the mask absentmindedly but couldn't decide on a color. At Nathanael's suggestion she opted for black, the shiniest of blacks that Nathanael had offered her.

“It looks nice,” she said after she’d painted the entire thing, both inside and out. She’d even tied laces to it, which made it even easier to carry.

“It does,” Nathanael agreed, though he seemed to be staring more at her than the mask she was holding. He looked at his watch as Marinette did, both surprised it was almost 2pm.

 “I’m sorry, I have a class—”

“I’ve got to go—”

The duo looked at each other and then broke into a laugh. Marinette put her hand on Nathanael’s shoulder as she straightened herself. “It was nice seeing you, Nathanael,” she said. “I’ve got to get going, though, I have a class at 2pm. Thank you for helping me, I’m sure I’ll see you soon!” And she was off, not noticing the tints of red that had been permanently on Nathanael’s face from start of meeting to finish.

She left the black mask on the desk in her office.

She had run to her business class.

She had returned to find three girls searching the backstage. And, seeing as she recognized none of them and they were throwing things around, she was furious. Whether or not they were _Angelique_ students, they were getting out of this backstage right now. 

“What are you doing.” Marinette spoke in a voice that boomed her anger and all three girls jumped at the sound. They took one look at her though, and went back to what they were doing. This irked Marinette even more. “I said, what are you doing? This is theater backstage, off-limits to everyone that isn’t in theater.”

“Oh lay off,” one of them remarked idly as she waved off Marinette’s words. “We’re just looking for someone. As soon as we find him, we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Or you can get out of my hair _now_ before I call campus police,” Marinette said through gritted teeth. She watched as the girls continued searching, completely ignoring her. One of them walked over to the office and Marinette dashed, reaching the door just in time to smack the girl’s hand off the handle. “Don’t you dare enter my office.”

And then the hullabaloo happened. She sighed as she picked up the stack of papers next to her and looked them over. Sketches, of course. They must have fallen out of her sketchbook. She had left her sketchbooks in the office, she remembered. And she found the sketchbooks on the floor. But she had also left something important—the mask! Quickly, she got up from the desk and turned around to look for it.

And her blue eyes met with green ones.

Marinette let out an _eep!_ and jumped back as the owner of the green eyes looked back at her, his hands on the window as his silent escape was thwarted by Marinette’s untimely turn. Her eyes darted all over the stranger as the latter, previously frozen, tried to escape slowly. One foot was slowly inching over the window and his head was slowly ducking down when…

“Wait!” Marinette shouted as soon as she caught on, and her sudden voice startled the stranger so his head rose too fast and he hit the window. The painful impact threw him back into the office room and he bent down by the floor to rub his head. Marinette, in the meantime, went around the desk to look at him, muttering: "What are you doing trying to leave through the window.." He looked familiar, though she really couldn’t put her finger on it, but he also looked like a complete stranger. The fact that he was in her office, though, could only mean one thing.

“Are you…are you _also_ looking for Adrien Agreste?”

He turned to look at her incredulously and it was now that Marinette _really_ looked him. She noted the jade eyes and blond hair.  She noticed the cat ears and the sequin jacket and the black mask. _Her_ black mask! “Hey, that mask is mine!” she shouted. “I mean, I made it. I don’t know who you are but if you’re really looking for Adrien Agreste, he’s not here. Never have, never will." She sighed as she rubbed her head. “I hate it when dumb rumors spread, you're not even paparazzi.."

The cat-boy slowly got up and Marinette realized he was taller than her. Just a small observation, really, compared to how he had perfect skin and his hair was ruffled almost on purpose. “I believe I should introduce myself first,” he said as he took her hand and kissed it. “My name is Cat Noir. It’s my pleasure to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ella lends a laptop to her friend. Her friend then gets her sick. Ella dies for a week. But she FINISHES this chapter and punches the air like yeah, this is done! Is this still considered slow build since I KINDA rushed their meeting?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meeting hooray.

She was staring at him, her hand still in his when Adrien looked up. A few minutes ago, he had to make a split second decision: jump out the window or hide in the office. And he’d gone with the latter, convinced no one would remain in the room. He hadn’t expected this. He thanked the stars he had a mask on or else she might have caught on to how terribly embarrassed he was. That’s right—the mask was the only reason he was acting like this. He had taken Ladybug’s advice and decided to act like someone else, someone normal and fun and like everyone else. But she was still staring at him strangely. Ah, perhaps that _wasn’t_ how normal young men acted? It would have been nice to get a confirmation. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked as he shook her hand a bit. That got a reaction out of her; she quickly shook her head and took her hand back.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Marinette said as she waved the question in the air. She hadn’t realized she had spent more than a few seconds searching his face, he just looked so familiar! But that had made her stare and for that she was embarassed. Marinette went around the desk and checked to make sure her documents were there, a lame excuse to create space between them. “You said you were… _Cat Noir_?” Her thoughts immediately went to her online friend's handle.

A flush grew on Adrien’s face but he tried to hold it back. He’d chosen the name, he might as well get used to it. But _oh_ , how Ladybug would laugh at him if she heard that he'd chosen it. “That’s me,” he insisted with a smile as he leaned onto the desk, drawing closer to Marinette. She took one step back. He decided not to push it.

“Are you from _Angelique_ or a paparazzi looking for Adrien Agreste?”

Angelique? Adrien had heard about the university when choosing one but decided against it because it drew too much attention. He didn’t understand why the University was brought up _now_ but decided to file the information away for later on. Instead, he cocked his head and put his hands on his face. “No way! Adrien Agreste goes to the university?” Fake enthusiasm showered out of him.

Marinette was not impressed. In fact, she was getting very irritated with this silly kitty avoiding questions…and wearing her mask! It was time to deal with this problem a different way: Marinette took a deep breath and took a step forward so Cat Noir and her were just a few inches away. His attention quickly shifted to her, hands still on his face as they slid to his cheeks. “So, _Cat Noir_ , if you’re not here for either of those things…” she began as she really looked at him. “Why are you in the drama department’s office wearing _my_ mask, _my_ ears, _my_ sequin jacket?”

There was something icy about the way she was claiming her items and Adrien immediately froze up like he’d been caught doing something bad. Even her blue eyes that were glittering a minute ago now darkened and shot daggers at him. Adrien found himself chuckling awkwardly, hands falling back as he tried to step back but her eyes held him there. “I really liked them?” he settled for that answer but her eyes didn’t back down. Maybe he should’ve gone out the window instead of hiding in the office after all. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”

That broke the spell: the icy daggers were replaced with a warmer dull knife as she looked at him curiously. “How did you know my name?” she asked, and then rolled her eyes. “Never mind, you probably overheard.” Adrien nodded, too afraid to make any other moments. “So you were in the room then.” He didn’t respond. Marinette paused as she looked around the room for a moment and then her eyes glanced back at him. He froze again under her gaze, preparing for what she would say next.

He didn’t expect her to timidly ask: “So, was he actually here? Adrien Agreste?”

Adrien’s surprise must’ve shown because she suddenly stepped back and shook her hands at him. “No, that’s not what I meant!” she shouted and her voice rose a pitch. “Don’t lump me in with those other fangirls, please! I meant, like physically, was he in this office? Not that I like him _physically_ or something—he’s a very good looking guy but did he look through my sketchbook and like anything? Did he like any of the outfits here?” Adrien didn’t respond to any of those questions, his mouth stuck in a small _o_ as he watched her squirm. It was funny, but like _cute_ funny and he was honestly touched someone cared in that way. Seeing his disbelief shook Marinette off her starstruck rant and she sighed. “Wow, what am I saying he probably wasn’t even here. Like I said, never have never will.”

“He was here,” Adrien found himself saying. Marinette looked at him no doubt how Adrien would look at himself: _what was he doing?_ He just didn’t want to see her sad. “He didn’t have time to look at anything, though.” Marinette’s face fell a little but there was still a smile on her face. Adrien found that he couldn’t stop talking now. “I mean, he did like your mask. When he left, I put it on. And then you walked in.”

“He liked my mask?” Marinette repeated after him almost immediately.

“He did,” Adrien confirmed with a smile as he watched hers grow. “He said something about the shiny color attracting him.”

Marinette’s face grew warm all of a sudden. Her childhood celebrity crush _liked_ her mask. A mask she hadn’t even spent her full attention on and he _liked_ it. Wow was that a nice feeling! Despite all the bad things that happened today, nothing could bring her down now. She could probably jot out twenty different sketch designs today. She turned to get her sketchbook and saw Cat Noir still hovering right by it with a smile as big as hers. And the mask still on his face.

“Cat Noir, give me back the mask,” she said, her smile still in tact.

He probably would have done it, too. A ding sounded and Adrien took out his phone. It was 4:30pm. The driver would pick him up at 5pm per his request. He had to leave, ASAP.

His smile twitched. “I can’t,” he said.

“Why not?” Marinette continued with her smile, albeit forced.

“I need it to escape,” was the response Adrien decided to give her. Which was true; no one would let Adrien escape, but no one had realized this Cat was Adrien. 

“I’ll give you another mask if you give me that one,” Marinette decided to haggle with him instead of egging him on.

 “I like this one,” Adrien replied quickly, eager to leave. “Adrien Agreste chose it and it covers my face the best.”

Marinette’s smile dropped. “Cat Noir, do you intend on stealing my mask?”

Adrien’s smile grew bigger. “Only for today. I promise I’ll bring it back tomorrow!” It was a promise: he had to return tomorrow anyway for his exam and he definitely wanted to meet her again. Marinette was an interesting person, funny and caring. He felt like he could watch her expressions change all day if he could. But he couldn’t, he had to go. 

Marinette didn’t like the answer but she could see he was getting ready to leave. His feet were in position and although they weren’t aimed at the window, he was glancing at it. But Marinette wouldn’t let him leave with her mask, not without a fight. “Oh really?” she said casually as she looked at the desk between them and back at him. His eyes followed hers and his body tensed, ready for her to swipe at him. She stepped back a couple of large steps and watched as his body relaxed. He took one step back.

And then Marinette ran forward.

She ran those steps and then jumped on the table. Adrien, surprised, just barely dodged her reach as she grabbed at his face. He ran around the table as Marinette jumped off the table and they raced to the door. Marinette reached the door first and turned around quickly to cover it from Cat Noir when he was already there, right above her, their eyes meeting. There was a spark of electricity in those green eyes that froze Marinette in place, allowing Adrien to pull her by the waist to the side, with his left hand and open the door with his right. In one fluid motion, he had moved Marinette, opened the door and slid out. And Marinette had stayed still the entire time.

 It wasn’t until moments later that Marinette fell to the floor and lamented the loss of the mask Adrien Agreste liked.

 As soon as Adrien made it home, he was on his computer. Giddily, he typed onto the chat: **Ladybug, have I ever told you how amazing you are??**

_Once more wouldn’t hurt._

**My friend says thank you for the advice. It was very good advice.**

_He made a new friend?_

**Not sure yet but he's going to try hard to make this one.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ella will do better next week I promise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second meeting, hooray. Please assume Marinette is taking mid-semester classes, the new semester doesn't start until 2 weeks.

“Pencils down.”

Adrien continued staring at Mlle. Delafleur with a smile as he had for the past ten minutes. True to her word, they had rescheduled for the next day, same time, same place. They were inside the lecture room Adrien couldn’t enter the day before, said room empty except for themselves. Mlle. Delafleur said she it was to prevent any further ruckus and, although she looked just a few years older than him, she had insisted on following the rules to the T. Which meant that, although Adrien had finished the test fifteen minutes early, she wouldn’t accept it until exactly 4:45pm. So he had placed the test in front of him (answer key facing up) after reviewing his answers for the fourth time, looked straight ahead and let his mind wander.

It rested on the previous conversation he had had with Ladybug:

**Ladybug, have I ever told you how amazing you are??**

_Once more wouldn’t hurt._

He had chuckled at her self-confidence, secretly envious. Whoever Ladybug was, she certainly was strong-willed. It reminded him of a certain someone. **My friend says thank you for the advice. It was very good advice.**

_He made a new friend?_

Adrien thought about it. Had he? At the very least, they must be acquaintances. He had replayed their entire interaction in his head while Gorilla drove back to the mansion and it was playfully friendly, but there was also a wall of distrust. **Not sure yet but he's going to try hard to make this one.**

_Oh?  They must have made quite the big impression on him._

Yes, Adrien wanted to shout out. Marinette really had! If things went well, he would certainly have his first real friend. And for that he was very excited.

“Adrien, you may leave now.”

Adrien snapped back to reality, faintly aware of Mlle. Delafleur watching him. He glanced at the time: 4:46pm. One minute, gone. He had asked Gorilla to pick him up at 5:30pm today so he could spend more time with Marinette but it looked like that wouldn’t be the case. He had 14 minutes, tops, which meant he had to hurry if he wanted to spend all 14 minutes with her.

Adrien stood up from his desk and took his duffel bag, thanking Mlle. Delafleur as he passed by her. She raised her hand between him and the door catching his attention as he turned around to protest but quickly stayed shut. “We’ll be calling you with the results,” Mlle. Delafleur said to him as she lowered her arm. “At least, that’s the normal routine. I’ve checked your answers at least twice and it’s a perfect score. Do keep in mind we will still call you to let you know the results, but you best get started thinking about the schedule. The new semester starts in two weeks and I would appreciate if you’d begun thinking how to be less distracting to the students.”

“Thank you, Mlle.!” Adrien nodded enthusiastically, his face beaming before he remembered once more he was on a tight schedule. Politely, he ducked away and out of the lecture room, headed into the first bathroom he spotted.

Yesterday had been a disaster with the paparazzi following him and thus he had made sure today to look as normal looking as possible. Black tracksuit with a white t-shirt underneath. Hair boringly parted in the middle, rimmed glasses on his face. The theme was “sporty athlete” but nobody had followed him and nobody had stared at him coming into FDU. Perfect. Yet it worried him that Marinette might not recognize him so he opened his bag. Marinette's things were inside--sequin jacket, the mask and the cat ears--along with the hair extensions, the only thing he's ever "borrowed" from the agency, perhaps permanently. He tied the extensions onto his hair into a small bun in the back. He put on Marinette's mask and the cat ears. Looking at the mirror, he compared his reflection to the selfie he had taken yesterday in the limo before Gorilla’s odd gaze eventually convinced him to take it all off. After ruffling his hair, the selfie and his reflection were practically twins. 

Adrien went out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the lobby floor. The big theater doors of Lachanter theater. If he was going backstage, he could easily cut right through by going through the theater couldn’t he? He inched the door open and took a peek right in: a dark, empty theater with a spotlight shining on the center of the stage. Adrien sneaked in and shut the door behind him. He took out the sequin jacket from his bag and tucked the bag under one of the seats for safekeeping. He’d come back for it after speaking with Marinette. Then he headed up to the stage, going up the staircase on the left before finally reaching the top.

As he passed the spotlight he stopped, took a second and stood right under it for a moment. He’d always been under the spotlight figuratively, but physically it felt different. The light was so warm and inviting, he wanted to stay under it all day. Although he could see the stage under him, a stage that would undoubtedly be filled with people, he couldn’t see anyone particularly. Sure they would be looking at him but he couldn’t see them. And, if it had been full right now, they wouldn’t even be looking at him, Adrien Agreste. They would be looking at Chat Noir. They would be looking at the _real_ him under a different name. What would they think of him?

Well, he figured it didn’t matter. Turning away from the spotlight, he went backstage. It was empty there, not that he had expected _people_. He was here for one person only. The office door on the other side was closed shut and he held his breath, hoping she had remembered. _Please, let her have remembered!_

With a held breath, he opened the door. Across from him was the person he expected, sitting behind her desk as she idly went through her book. Blue eyes flickered over to his green ones, her lips mouthing the word “Cat” as she stood up from her desk. His heart jolted then warmed, happy she was here and had remembered. It was with that thought that he left the door and sauntered over to her.

“Bonjour, Marinette!” he greeted her with a playful salute as he made his way to her. “I told you I’d be back.”

Marinette stuck her hand in front of her, cutting Cat Noir’s walk. “Yes, that promise. My jacket, my ears.” Marinette pointed to her temple. “Especially my _mask_.” She glanced at the door briefly, as if daring him to go.

 A wide grin grew on Adrien’s face as he took in Marinette’s attitude, her blue eyes staring directly at him. It was different from the way the receptionists hushed around him and talked to him sweetly, from the way he was directed to look and act and move. She was looking at him, the _real_ him, and treating him like a normal person. At least that’s what it was when she was looking at Cat Noir. He didn’t want this to end. Would she do the same for Adrien Agreste? He didn’t want to find out.

Adrien presented the jacket first to Marinette. “A present for the lady,” he announced.

Marinette, a little thrown off by his theatrics, stifled a laugh before she swiped it from his hands. “More like a return,” she murmured as she returned it to the rack. “And the other two?” Adrien could see she was looking above him at the cat ears.

“May the lady have mercy on my soul,” he continued dramatically as he raised a hand to his head. “For how could I be Cat Noir without black cat ears?”

Marinette found it harder to stop her laugh. “What, can’t get your own pair for your alter ego?” she joked. He could see her tension loosen up.

“Nah.” He put his hands behind his head. “Your ears are more comfortable.”

“And the mask?” She was eyeing it more than she eyed the ears.

“It was approved by _Adrien Agreste_!” he said his name like the girls did outside his limo. At the name, though, Marinette let out a whine and she covered her face. Adrien stopped, afraid he had gone too far as he tiptoed closer to her. “Hey, you okay over there?”

Marinette peeked from between her hands, a frown on her face. “Why’d you have to bring up Adrien Agreste?” she whined. “Do you like him or something?”

Adrien laughed, he simply _had to_. “No, why? Do you?”

Her face flushed. He froze. It was like that for a few moments before he saw her smirk. She dove forward, hands outstretched and Adrien stepped back just a moment late. Her hands touched his mask and grabbed at it. Adrien reached the sides and pulled it back with enough force to snatch it back on him. 

Despite the attack he smiled, watching Marinette “tsk” in disappointment and look off to the right irritably. “C’mon, Marinette, let me keep the mask,” he pleaded with her. She huffed in response. “It’s for your safety too, you know. Under this mask is a _very_ handsome person. You’d probably _die_ if you met him.”

Marinette scoffed. “As if, but fine. For a price.” She walked back to desk and sat down in the chair, opening the book in front of him. “Come here and be useful then.”

Adrien walked over and around her before glancing down at her book. Upon closer inspection he saw it was a sketchbook and all the pages were full of clothing designs. These were two pages full of dresses. He looked down at her. “How may I be of use to you?”

 She looked up at him and then pointed at her book. “These are designs, for the play,” she explained. “I’ve drawn dozens of them and none of them feel great. I don’t know what I’m missing so I thought maybe getting a second opinion would help me see it.”

“Oh?” He took the book from in front of her and looked through it, Marinette watching him carefully. Somehow, she had taken out a small notepad and was waiting patiently with a pen. Under her expectant gaze, he looked back at the pages and _really_ looked at it. But he couldn’t see what she was looking for. They were great designs, the dresses extravagant and colorful and the suits vibrant yet tasteful. Some colors were a bit strange but he could feel a theme tying them together. “I take it there’s a theme to all this.”

“The play of course.” Adrien was still looking at her despite her very simple explanation. “What?”

“For the play, you’re making these?” He just wanted to make sure, but she looked completely aghast.

Marinette stood up and took her sketchbook back. “Why, are they that bad?” She held it to her chest protectively.

Immediately Adrien shouted, “No!” Marinette jumped and he lowered his tone after apologizing. “I mean, I didn’t know.”

Marinette looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Didn’t you read the script?”

“Didn’t get the chance.”

“Then here.” She opened one of the drawers in the desk and pulled out a bounded book, one of two copies she had in the office. Adrien took it, surprised it was light. He opened a page. “Come to think of it, I wonder if the other _Angelique_ actors have a copy of the script?”

Adrien didn’t notice she was looking at him until after he flipped the second page. “Oh, I wouldn’t know.”

“What, you don’t get along with the other actors in your school?” she asked curiously. Adrien put two-and-two together, but he didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t want to lie and he couldn’t exactly tell the truth, so he just watched her.

She seemed to take the silence as an answer, looking away. “Yeah, I guess you don’t. I used to go to _Angelique_ before FDU so I understand.” Adrien didn’t understand at all but he kept a perfect poker face. Marinette seemed to take that silence as an answer, too. She opened her phone, swiping away an alert, and looked through it until she opened up her calendar. Earlier in the day, she had gotten together with Mylene and she had scheduled every theater related activity into her phone. “Hm, we’re not scheduled to meet with _Angelique_ until Wednesday but you’ve shown up two days now, Cat.”

This he could reply to. “What, don’t like my company?” he quipped as he leaned over to her. She scoffed, pushing him off of her as Adrien glanced at her cellphone. It was set to a bright homescreen of red with black dots. In the middle black dot was a white clock with the time scribbled. 5:05pm. Oh no. He took a step away, an action Marinette immediately noticed.

“Cat?”

“This cat actually has to go. See you, Marinette.” He was stepping slowly to the door and Marinette really had no reason to stop him. She _wouldn’t_ stop him. He was getting anxious, afraid he wouldn’t be able to return. Would she let him? She wasn’t even paying attention to him, looking at her phone.

With a heavy heart, he reached the door that never completely closed and was walking out when he heard her say, “See you Cat Noir. Remember, we’re supposed to meet with everyone from _Angelique_ on Wednesday. 3pm. Don’t be late.”

Adrien’s face brightened and he grinned broadly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He left the office and backstage, taking his bag with him before he headed back to the agency.

Marinette stayed behind, letting out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. This Cat Noir wasn’t so bad, he was just as silly as her internet friend. She opened her browser on her phone where it was opened to the website they both used. She logged in and checked her chat with CatNoir0103. He had sent a message a few hours ago, **Good Morning Ladybug! My friend will be meeting his new friend again today so he’s really excited. As for me, I’m more than glad to talk with you.**

She had replied about half an hour later: _That’s wonderful to hear. What will we be talking about, Kitty Cat?_ But he hadn’t replied after that. He probably logged off. Unlike instant messaging applications, she couldn’t tell when he was online or not. Recently, their conversations were becoming like this: a reply twenty or thirty minutes after the previous. Marinette decided they had to change their method of communication. She’d discuss it with him the next time it seemed like he was online.

Suddenly the screen faded to black and Marinette jolted from her thoughts as Alya’s picture filled the screen, a phone icon right under it. Alya was calling. She accepted the call and put it to her ear just as Alya shouted, “Marinette! How _dare_ you ignore my first two calls?”

“Sorry, Alya, I got distracted with a cat.”

“A cat?” Alya was understandably confused as Marinette hadn’t explained Cat Noir to her. Either of the Cat Noirs. “Anyway, I found the info you wanted.”

“Did you?” Marinette’s voice raised an extra pitch, her excitement rising before she coughed and cleared her throat. “I mean, did you? What did you find out?”

Alya let out a laugh. “Girl, you’re not fooling anyone with that cough. And get this, you were right. Adrien Agreste was in FDU. He was here yesterday and he was here today.” Marinette screamed; she just couldn’t help it. Her childhood crush and also childhood role model had been in _her_ school. What’s more, if Cat Noir was to be believed, he liked her mask! This was _amazing_. “Alright, settle down, girl, or people will still think you’re a hormonal teen crushing on her childhood heartthrob. I forgot to mention the best news.”

“What’s the best news?” Marinette practically shouted.

“Adrien will be coming back to FDU. Now, you may be wondering: how does Alya, detective genius, know? Elementary, my dear Marinette. And I mean this in the literal sense when I say this was the easiest scoop for me to catch. His name was on the top of the stack of the entrance exams given out today. Right at the top in his fancy signature. Can you believe that?”

Marinette could not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I think it's time for me to stop indulging myself in these Marichat moments. It's time to GET INTO THE ACTUAL PLOT OF THIS SERIES. *cracks knuckles*
> 
> Talk to me about plot.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is gushing. Adrien is gushing. We are getting nowhere. Why is this filler.

“So you’re telling me—”

“Mhm,” Alya interrupted her for the seventeenth time as she watched Marinette pace around her room. The lovebird had been pacing for a while now, unable to get it through her thick head that YES, this was really happening. Alya raised the mug of hot chocolate to her lips as she took a sip. As much as she loved her best friend, Marinette could get a little bit ridiculous, especially when it came to topics she was really into. And Adrien Agreste was near the top of that list.

“That _the_ Adrien Agreste of the Gabriel brand, is coming to my school?” Marinette finished, practically shouting it as she tried to convince herself that her words were true. That this was real, not a dream, and it was happening right now. Half of her wanted to scream. The other half wanted to pass out. All of her wanted to do _something_ other than pace around the room.

“Coming, and going, and coming again, class after class.” Alya said her bit from the couch as she grew more and more comfortable. Might as well, right, since she would definitely be here for a while. She looked out the window at the flakes of snow. Figures Mother Nature would trap her to deal with her friend’s hysterics.

Marinette turned to Alya, pigtails whipping with her face. “I just, I can’t really believe it. Are you sure?”

“Girl, are you doubting your leading source with 95% credibility?” Alya took the chance to put down her hot chocolate and cross her arms with confidence. “What I can’t believe is your behavior right now. I thought you were over Adrien Agreste.”

Marinette froze and visibly relaxed as she tried to slow down her beating heart. She remembered telling Alya years ago that it was a silly crush, but she never told Alya how she always kept a tab open with his name up, or that she google searched his picture before going to sleep. “I was—I am,” she corrected herself as she cleared her throat. Alya’s eyes narrowed in on her and she hurried to back her claim. “That was a childhood obsession. I am older, wiser—”

“Well, there’s a lot less Adrien posters than before so I believe you.”

Marinette flushed red as she watched her friend shrug her shoulders and pick up her mug. “Ah, yes. They might be in storage in case I needed them for reference. Only reference though. But as I said, I’m older and wiser now.”

There was a moment of silence between them, in which Marinette was looking at Alya and Alya sipped her hot chocolate while watching Marinette with piercing eyes, daring her to lie to her. It was making Marinette nervous.

“But, for nostalgia’s sake, may I indulge in another victory whoop? I’m sure past Marinette would appreciate what future Marinette’s school life holds.” She added a few careful _hehe_ ’s, her eyes pleading Alya. They were locked.

“Whoop away,” Alya approved with a smile as she looked away and not a moment too soon. Marinette’s _victory whoop_ as she called it also included a sharp falsetto and lots of giggling. It’s a good thing Alya held a tight grip on the mug, too. A more careless person—ahem, Marinette—would have definitely dropped it. Alya stifled a laugh.

A few moments later, the trap door swung open and Sabine’s head popped in, clearly alarmed. “Honey, are you—” She scanned the room as she hurriedly spoke but, finding no threat and meeting Alya’s judging stare, immediately calmed down. Sabine climbed entirely into the room, just in case, giving it a one-down. “I see you’re both fine. Why is she screaming?”

“Adrien Agreste,” Alya replied simply.

“I thought we were past this,” Mama Cheng sighed into the palm of her hand as she and Alya watched Marinette critically. Marinette could sense their disapproval.

“Would the two of you please let me bask in my youth for a moment _without_ you staring?” Marinette grumbled. “Oh, whatever. I guess I’ll do it later.”

“So, why is Adrien Agreste suddenly a hot topic again?” Mama Cheng asked, her words careful as she watched Marinette.

“Adrien Agreste now attends FDU,” Alya informed her. “Turns out our dear Marinette now has a good chance to run into her childhood crush. Or stalk the halls for him. Maybe both?”

Marinette screamed in response, though Alya didn’t turn to look to see if it was out of anger, joy, frustration or what.

“Marinette,” Mama Cheng addressed Marinette specifically, who put down her hands from her face to look at her mother. “If you do find him, be a dear and bring him around to the bakery. Those pictures you had of him, he always looked so thin.” Marinette couldn’t stop herself from giggling as she thought of Adrien eating dozens of her bakery'a croissants, then she straightened up into a confident posture. “I’ll try my best Maman.”

“Well, girls, if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs in the bakery. Goodbye.” And with that, she was gone from the room.

Alya and Marinette watched the trap door for a moment before they turned to look at each other. And then the laughter erupted. Marinette’s “Adrien high” was clearly over and silence soon filled the room as they calmed down. But the lack of conversation was never a problem for these friends. The snowflakes outside the window now had a little momentum as they danced around. Alya took out her phone idly, perhaps checking the time. Marinette took a seat next to her as her excitement came to a crashing halt. For a moment, they reveled in each other’s company in silence, appreciating the comforting silence.

“How’s your dad?” Alya broke the silence. “His foot okay now?”

“Yeah, he keeps insisting he’s at 100%,” Marinette replied idly. “He woke up earlier than Maman and I today and got everything ready for opening. I understand he was trying to prove a point but if he’d just give me a little heads up, I wouldn’t have woken up at 6am today. Do you know how hard it is to fall back to sleep when you’re all set to go?”

Alya laughed. “Not hard for you, you little bedbug,” she teased as she tapped Marinette’s nose. The latter laughed along with her as she looked out the window. As much as she hated winter weather for its lack of fashion, watching snow fall was relaxing. “Winter exams should be next week for you, right?”

Marinette groaned. “Why’d you have to remind me?”

“That’s what best friends do,” Alya reminded her sternly. “They keep track of your schedules, kind of like a friendly neighborhood secretary. Paging Miss Marinette? You have an English literacy paper due Wednesday, a portfolio due Thursday and a Sociology term paper due later on that day.”

“I haven’t even started,” Marinette whined again.

“Then what _have_ you been doing?”

“Working on designs, duh.” Marinette sat up as she searched for her sketchbook, conveniently finding it under the couch. Huh, how’d that get there? She opened a page and passed it to Alya. “Would you believe Mlle. Passucre didn’t like them?”

Alya took her sketchbook and turned the pages. “They _are_ very Marinette,” Alya commented as she went from one page design of a flowing dress to another. “It’s not that they’re bad, per se, but I think she’s looking for another approach. Passucre has always been a bit of an eccentric. Maybe you just need to match her in that.”

“Hm, maybe you’re right,” Marinette murmured more to herself than anyone else. “I’ll try brainstorming again before Wednesday.”

“What happens Wednesday?”

Marinette’s face suddenly had a devious smirk. “You heard Nino: All the drama _stays_ in Drama,” she repeated to the brunette.

“I have half the mind to write an expose over your terrible treatment of best friends, Marinette.”

Marinette let out a laugh. “It’s nothing big, honest,” she managed to say. “Just meeting up with the _Angelique_ team.” Her face fell as it hit her: oh god, she was meeting with the acting team from her old college. The one that betrayed her. She tried her best to bring back the same enthusiasm before Alya noticed, continuing. “I think we’ll be reviewing the script, deciding characters, doing cast auditions. I don’t know who’s casted as Cinderella or her Prince, or anyone. I’ll be getting the measurements for the _Angelique_ team. If I know who’s what character, I can start drafting prototypes.”

“But you need to get those sketches approved first,” Alya reminded her. “No sense is wasting your time to make outfits that won’t be approved.”

“You’re right.”

“I am,” Alya affirmed. “And while we’re on the topic of school and drama, what’s your schedule for next semester? I need to see what days we’ll be eating lunch together.”

.

..

…

**Ladybug, you haven’t responded to me in HOURS! Don’t tell me you forgot about your black cat, miao.** **(=** **｀** **ω´=)**

_Hmmm, maybe? But you’re right, I guess I can get a bit busy. How about we switch our method of communication? Instead of emails through this dumb website, how about Skype? I’ve already set up an account with my name, LadybugLadyluck._

**SIGNING UP RIGHT NOW, LADYBUG YOU BETTER NOT FORGET ME.** **(=** **✪** **n** **✪** **=)**

_How are you doing those faces?_

**Internet Magic.**

Adrien switched the tab open as he loaded up Skype and filled out the registration process. Once again, he wrote his username as CatNoir0103. The registration asked for a picture and he stood at that screen momentarily, daring himself to use his own. But Ladybug was so big on internet safety she would probably get upset, so he settled for a picture of a black cat. As soon as registration was over, he added LadybugLadyluck. His request was promptly accepted and next to the handle he saw a ladybug picture and a green icon indicating she was online. _Awesome._

Although simple at best, Adrien couldn’t believe it. He had a skype account. He had a friend that wanted to know at all times if he was online or not so they could talk to him, if they wished. He had a way to make sure his friend was online and could talk to them, if he wished. All in all, he had a friend and a way to talk. And this made him so happy. Happy that Ladybug wanted to talk to him. Happy that he wasn’t the same Adrien he was a couple of weeks ago, alone on a Saturday night browsing internet tabs.

I mean, in a way, he was. It was Saturday night again, and he was browsing internet tabs again. But he had skype opened on one tab and the FDU website opened on another so he could plot out his schedule. A crudely written piece of paper was in front of him where what his usual schedule had been jotted down as well as predictions for the next semester. If he could work around that, he’d be good. He could attend school and continue working for his father, and none would be the wiser.

A popup appeared on the right-hand side and he recognized the handle immediately. _I see you’re back to being CatNoir0103. Original._

He grinned as he opened the popup and the screen filled with a chat log. **Don’t want you confusing me with any other tomcats around. How are you this lovely evening?**

He could see her typing. His heart warmed that she was typing to him. _Oh, the usual Saturday night gimmicks: late night sessions with me and my textbook, studying for exams and writing formal essays._

**A toast to that! Might I join you in a few months? It looks like I’ve enrolled into a really difficult university.**

_Ah, well. Good luck? I’ll try to assist with as much as I remember from university classes._

**Thanks, you’re the best! I’m sure you’ll be the best lucky charm, Ladybug.** **(=^** **◡** **^=)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONGRATULATIONS, you have all just guilt tripped me into making another chapter. OTL  
> I sincerely didn't know what to follow up the chapter with but then I kept getting kudos emails and I felt bad and I KNEW I HAD TO KEEP GOING and ugh. Well, we're getting somewhere. Next up: let's have some Adrien and Marinette!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day in the life of Adrien Agreste.

"You have an appointment with the editing team from CV at one o clock."

"Yes Nathalie."

"And a dentists appointment at four."

"Yes Nathalie."

Nathalie Sancoeur looked up from her tablet where she had preloaded Adrien's daily activities and glanced down at the boy beside her eating breakfast. It was 8am, a bit early to start working at any standard job but being Gabriel Agreste's secretary was hardly standard. Amongst the things she had expected to be in charge of his young son was not amongst them but she accepted the job and the responsibility with every intention of succeeding. Every weekday morning (with the exception of last week—she was in _Milan_ ) she confirmed he woke up and ate breakfast. She told him his schedule and any upcoming events of importance. She used to privately tutor him as well until he outgrew his lessons. He was a smart polite kid, a marvelously easy child to teach and keep track of. For all the years she had to stick by him, Nathalie swore she knew Adrien like the back of her hand. But, glancing at him now, she saw one thing she had never ever seen prior.

He was _smiling_. Smiling like a child who'd just been given candy, warmth radiating from him as anyone could see just how thankful and happy he was. Except it wasn't candy that brought his smile: it was his phone. With the way he had angled his phone and the way he wanted to eat his breakfast, she couldn't see why or what it was in it. Nathalie herself had seen more Adrien Agreste smiles than she could count but she'd never seen this one. She did recognize the phone as his gaming phone and knew Adrien to be an avid _download-beat-delete_ type of gamer. It _must_ be a game. Maybe this one might last a little longer. She looked back at his agenda.

Adrien, meanwhile, was typing furiously with a cat-like grin on his face, practically ignoring his meal. He had spent all night talking to Ladybug about trivial things on Skype. Eventually she had said she needed to wake up early and they said their goodnights but, upon waking up and logging in, he had found her handle with a bright green light next to it. And he was _elated_. Needless to say, he spent his whole Sunday glued to his computer. It wasn't until Ladybug mentioned she was at the park with her friends that Adrien learned he could download a mobile app and chat with her on the go. Never before had he thanked technology as much as he did now. It became the first icon on his gaming phone, all alerts and notifications set to priority at the highest possible volume.

Today he had woken up at 6am as his father always requested. Out of curiosity, he opened Skype and saw the grey circle next to it. Offline. Well, it's not like he expected her to be awake so early. He showered, changed, went on his computer for a bit and checked Skype again. Still offline. It wasn't her fault but he felt really disappointed she wasn't. Despite their short acquaintanceship she had become a lifeline to him, someone who treated him with kindness and joked with him, a real friend. The weekend conversations had spoiled him and he wanted more.

Someone up above must've felt pity for him. At 7am, right before he headed downstairs, there was a ding. Someone had logged into Skype right now. That someone could only be _Ladybug_. Adrien dove into his pockets with such speed, much grace that the phone practically flew out when he retrieved it. After catching it and opening Skype he was glad it was Ladybug after all.

**My precious Ladybug! GOOD MORNING GOOD MORNING GOOD MORNING!!**

His heart skipped a beat at his answer: _I thought Cats liked to sleep in._

**I thought Ladybugs liked to eat flowers.**

_Drat, I thought nobody knew about that dare I took in 3rd grade. Never again. (But seriously, why so early?)_

**Wait what? And is it tasty? Inquiring minds want to know! (My dad is sending me on errands today.)** It wasn't a lie: his job was basically running errands and following his father's whims.

_Inquiring minds will have to go mind their own business. Also, sucks about your dad wasting your precious sleep. It's not like you got much sleep when you were talking to me until ONE AM._

**I'd rather lose sleep than give up the time I can talk with you, My Lady.**

He held his breath after he typed that line. Was he being weird? Would she think that was weird? He hoped she wouldn't think it was weird. Were they closed enough to warrant nicknames (of screennames)? She didn't reply after 30 seconds and he hastily typed: **Get it? My Lady(bug)?**

_Ha ha ha (sarcasm)._

**(=^ u ^=)**

_And there he goes._

And it had been playful banter from then on. Adrien laughed at a joke she made and then stopped when he heard someone clear their throat. Nathalie. He looked up at her apologetically but she wasn't even looking at him so he finished his breakfast as fast as he could. And then he realized he could actually get information from her, specifically his schedule for the next three months. If he knew the times and dates of most of his duties, scheduling his classes would be a breeze.

"Hey, Nathalie?"

"Yes Adrien."

"Now that the winter fashion show is over, we'll be working on the spring show right?"

"Of course Adrien. Monsieur Agreste has already drafted various designs that are being prototyped as we speak." And they were barely in January, wow. His father was a very efficient man.

"Do you think my father has anything big planned for me this year?"

Nathalie looked at him. His pleading face looked very suspicious, like he was up to something, but it was also likely he was asking to be involved in the future. "Unfortunately, I don't know the details." Adrien was visibly disheartened, looking like a puppy denied a treat. Sometimes her job felt kind of awful but someone had to do it. Then again; "I'll ask your father if he has the time."

"NO!" he practically shouted and Nathalie was visibly surprised. And confused. Adrien had to clear his throat and adjust himself in his seat in order to clear the tension. "I mean, he's a very busy man. I wouldn't want to trouble him." Or give him any ideas that might make me even more busy.

"Very well."

"It would be nice to have a weekly schedule so I know all the times and places I need to be." Nathalie blinked and suddenly Adrien was insisting. "I'm just really into this video game on my phone and it's like, multi-player. I have to join groups in order to beat the new levels and it'd be nice to have consistent days I'm free so I can join the same group." Or go to school! "But it's ok, really!"

The lie rolled out of him as soon as he opened his mouth: maybe years of wanting to sneak around finally gave him the courage and imagination to go through it. Now he just had to hope she bought it. He tried to gauge her expression but it was impossible, like trying to find a crack on an iron wall. Vital, yet borderline impossible.

Eventually, Nathalie turned her attention back to her tablet. "Very well Adrien," she repeated. "If you're done with breakfast, your chauffeur is waiting to take you to the office."

"Yes Nathalie." Adrien got up quickly from his seat, took his green jacket from the coat rack and headed out the door. Nathalie accompanied him until she saw him safely enter the limo. She nodded at Gorilla who nodded back to her. Then she turned back to the house and up the stairs to meet with M. Agreste.

Adrien, meanwhile, was wracked with worry sitting in the backseat as he hoped and prayed Nathalie didn't speak with his father. Hopefully she found out the schedule for him and let him know. Or maybe she would speak to his father but explain it in better, nicer terms. And his father would agree. He sighed and decided worrying about it now wouldn't change anything. He turned back his attention to his chat with Ladybug, the only ray of sunshine he had to look forward to.

**What's the agenda for today, LB?**

_English literacy paper due Wednesday. I probably won't get to it today, but I might get the portfolio I need done by Thursday complete. Then there's the sociology term paper..._

**Yeowch! That's a lot of work. Glad I'm not doing it! (But I'd be glad to help) ( ⓛ ω ⓛ *)**

_No thanks. Your yeowling already gave me a headache._

**(*ﾟﾛﾟ)**

_I'm sorry. I'm just a little grouchy from waking up so early and having a lot to do. I'll take care of it, talk to you later._

**):**

She logged off. Looks like today wasn't going to be his day.

The limo stopped in front of the office. Adrien thanked Gorilla before stepping outside the vehicle and headed into the familiar office building. Every head turned at his arrival and every secretary quickly greeted him. By now, he had remembered all their names: the frequent ones being Marie, Greta and Angela. Marie was the nervous redhead that shouted her good mornings and told him about Crepuscule Cafe. Greta, with the toffee-colored hair always tied up, was the one with the most access to information and she could tell him his schedule when he asked. Angela, the blonde with the pixie cut, usually ignored him unless she had to and always nodded in acknowledgement whenever their eyes met.

Judging by the volume of their greeting Adrien knew instantly Marie was there. "Good morning Marie," he returned the greeting as he approached. "And good morning Angela." The latter looked over from her desk and nodded to him. Marie, meanwhile, looked like she was about to faint.

"M. Agreste, good morning!" She repeated again. "Ah! When I passed by Crepuscule cafe today, they said they were having a special promotion on their Americanos: a large Americano for the price of a small and an extra shot is free!"

"Oh, thanks for letting me know. I'll bring you one when I pass by."

Marie grinned broadly before she suddenly flinched, remembering something. "Ah, the CV team called. They'll be in here shortly, you should head up to the second floor and get ready for them."

"I thought the CV team was coming at 1pm?" Adrien was sure he had heard Nathalie say 1pm.

"Ah, that's with the editing team. The meeting at 9am is an interview for CV. They're doing a whole section on you."

"Ah?" Had Nathalie mentioned it earlier? He might have missed it when he was messaging Ladybug. No problem, Adrien thought, he could handle this. "Thanks for reminding me, Marie." Pulling on the collar of his jacket with a flourish, he turned and headed to the elevator.

At 9am, Adrien welcomed three members of the magazine CV into his office. It was a smaller room than his father's, lined up with bookshelves and portraits of his best work, but it held the essentials; an office desk with enough space for his laptop and extra chairs should he have visitors. There was also a large mirror, should he ever need it. Although very rarely used, his office was finally put to use as the three members sat across from him. Judging by their attire the middle-aged lady was the reporter, the young man with the baseball cap backwards and the camera must be the videographer and the younger looking lady with the nametag the assistant. Adrien smiled radiantly as he had always been told to do and offered the coffee and croissants on his desk to his guests. They accepted it gratefully.

“Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to have an interview with us,” the reporter said as she held her coffee with both hands, clearly cherishing the warmth that radiated from it.

“No, I should be thanking you for considering me to interview. I don’t do a lot in the mornings so it feels refreshing to have guests.” That’s right: play that role. His father had drilled manners and etiquette into Adrien since he was five, there wasn’t anyone he couldn’t please with a smile.

The reporter politely laughed then introduced herself and her crew. Because she was a bit forgetful, she had brought along a cameraman to record the conversation and her assistant was screening questions of fans to ask him later on in the interview. “Of course, most of the interview questions will be about your experience as the face of Gabriel brand, but I’ve asked fans to send me questions they’re most curious about you,” she explained. “Will that be a problem?”

“Of course not, I just hope I can answer them.” He smiled and the trio in front of him assured him he’d do just fine. As soon as the cameraman pointed the camera onto him, they began.

The first half hour was full of questions he’d answered before or Nathalie had had him memorize years ago should he be asked the questions. Adrien felt honored to be the face of the prestigious Gabriel brand. It was tough work but highly rewarding when he stepped out on the runway. The Gabriel brand was an active supporter of cruelty-free products. Adrien kept up his figure by eating well and exercising properly.

The other half was unrehearsed and he felt it as soon as the reporter asked her assistant from the phone. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I won’t use all the questions asked here. Just answer the ones you feel most comfortable with.” And they began with favorite color, favorite location in Paris, favorite coffee.

At the mention of the latter, he had said, “Americano from Crepuscule Café.” and the reporter looked up from her phone.

“Oh? Isn’t there a Crepuscule nearby?”

“Yes,” Adrien confirmed. “Just around the corner. I frequent it during my breaks.” The reporter murmured something happily, motioning to her assistant to jot something down as she looked through her phone again.

“What do you do on your days off?”

Another question with a rehearsed answer. Adrien smiled the same way he smiled to the paparazzi. “I usually enjoy light reading by my balcony, sometimes I jog around the park or visit the Louvre. When you’ve lived in Paris for this long, it’s easy to take from granted museums but there’s always a new exhibit at the Louvre.”

The reporter pointed to her assistant again who started writing. “On the topic of friendship, who are your friends? What do you usually do with them? We very rarely see any pictures with you and someone else.”

“I’ve been friends with Chloe Bourgeois since we were little and we chat often online. It’s a bit disappointing we haven’t met up in a while but I imagine our busy schedules will lighten up soon.” Another rehearsed line that left him feeling empty. He began hoping this interview would end soon.

No sooner had he thought this than the reporter shut off her phone. “Well, I think we’re done here,” she announced as she stood up. Adrien stood up as well and the two CV employees started packing up. “Thank you very much for your time, Monsieur Agreste. We’ll send you a copy of the section as soon as we complete it and ask for your review before we submit it, okay?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” Adrien said as he extended his hand. “I look forward to working with CV in the future.” The reporter took his hand and shook. They said their farewells, Adrien walked them to the door and they left after waving goodbye again. Adrien watched them enter the elevator before he closed the door.

He was alone in his office now. He hated being alone in his office. Walking back to the desk, he opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. He turned to the mirror and looked at his reflection. He put on the sunglasses and stared at his reflection. He ruffled his hair and put on his jacket; after the weekend’s snow, it was too cold to run around without one. After deciding he looked _normal enough_ , Adrien left the office.

“I’ll be right back with that Americano,” Adrien called out to Marie as he passed by reception. He could hear her shouting her thanks vaguely as he stepped outside the building.

Except she hadn’t.

“Monsieur Agreste!” Marie tried calling after him but it was pointless. She turned to the other secretary next to her and, in a whisper, spoke to Angela. “Do you think we should be informing Nathalie about this?”

“This isn’t the first time he’s run off, Marie. Why didn’t you report it then?” Angela said her bit as she typed away at her computer. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, he isn’t allowed to get coffee. Whether you mention it or not, there’s no denying we’re accomplices now for letting him get away with it.”

“I knew I should’ve retrieved it the first time he asked,” Marie lamented as she sank a little lower.

At this, Angela got visibly upset. “Suck it up, Marie,” she chastised the younger woman. “It’s not like he’s five years old. He can get his own coffee. Now, are you making those phone calls to the Boston group or am I going to have to take over?”

Adrien turned the corner on Gotlib street and entered the Crepuscule café. It wasn’t very crowded, thankfully, and he figured he still had some time so he ordered the Americano that Marie had mentioned and sat by the window. He checked the time: a little past 11am. He had a lot of time. He logged into Skype and saw Ladybug was offline. A lot of time and nothing to spent it on. He looked out the window, frowning.

A flash of blue caught his attention. Two streaks of blue in long pigtails—he’d only seen that on one person in all of Paris. Very discreetly, he watched as a young lady exited the Boulangerie Patisserie across from the café in a form-fitting magenta coat with a pink scarf. She glanced briefly his way, Adrien resisting the urge to duck, before heading in the direction of FDU. That was definitely Marinette.

 _Should he go see her?_ They had agreed to meet on Wednesday and seeing her two days early would be unexpected. But Adrien doubted friendships worked the same way appointments did. Did she consider him a friend? He certainly considered her one. Well, he thought as he stood up, it wouldn’t hurt to try saying hi. He stood up from his seat and left the café, heading in the same direction she did. She was a little ways ahead but he quickened his pace until he was just a few steps behind her. All he had to do was reach out, maybe say a greeting. She’d turn around and recognize him.

Recognize...who? Cat Noir? Adrien Agreste? Dressed in a coat and sunglasses, who would she see? Marinette was very friendly around Cat Noir, he noticed, but she became unusually tense when Adrien Agreste was mentioned. What if she recognized him instead? The thought slowed him down considerably and he watched as she got further and further away from him.

“Monsieur Agreste!”

Adrien turned around and saw Marie running towards him, clearly out of breath. She slowed down as she reached him, panting heavily as Adrien tried to hold her still. “Yes, Marie? Oh! Here's the Americano you asked for.”

Marie looked at the drink that Adrien put in her hands incredulously. “Ah—thank you, but! I’m here regarding something different, Monsieur Agreste. It seems you left your phone behind and the CV editing team is on their way, coming an hour early, and I wanted to make sure you knew.” Marie was talking rapidly at a little higher than normal volume. Adrien figured she was trying to overcompensate for getting tired so quickly.

His free time had been drastically cut short. Adrien suppressed a disappointed sigh and smiled at his diligent secretary. “Thank you, Marie, I’ll head back now.” Marie smiled back and stood right up, ready to head back to the office. It was now that Adrien saw various people had stopped to watch the exchange and were looking at him curiously. They had heard, at the very least, the name Agreste. They knew who he was. On a whim, he turned around and looked for Marinette. Had she heard?

Judging by the stunned look on her face, her body paralyzed as her eyes watched him, she must have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again bombarded by kudos emails. You guys ruin my life OTL. I also realized it was too early for Adrien+Marinette scenes nooo.
> 
> As a side note, I was on vacation last week. All I thought about was the script in this fanfiction. Yes, I thought about my fanfiction's fanfiction and wrote a couple of chapters pretending Marinette was cinderella. Maybe I'll publish that as well? Edit: Please see [**The Tale of Maladroit**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7380802) for the script.


End file.
